#i never thought i was *restricting* my food because certainly when i had been eating tons and working out tons i had been eating too much

[ploncc]

i always assumed that i had a slow metabolism since i could go a rather long time eating very little and only realize once i was Suddenly Very Fucking Hungry that i'd missed a meal, but recently i have realized that i may, in fact, actually just have adhd and a fast metabolism, and that chronically just-slightly-under-eating may, in fact, explain quite a few Weird Things my body and brain have, in fact, been up to.

[nouearth]

servicing justice: superman [1]

pairing ; kal-el / clark kent / superman x m!reader. fandom: ; dc, superman. word count ; 2144. series ; servicing justice. genre ; smut. rating ; m. warnings ; bigdick!superman. blowjob. gloryhole. handjob. mouth-fucking. oral (reader giving). sexworker!reader. note ; yeah, okay. maybe i've been watching too much of a certain video genre, ahem. but i hope you guys enjoy my first smut! it's been a WHILE since i've written one, so i know it's rusty, HAHA. looks-wise, i mostly had maws's superman in mind (because the art style is so good and so himbo), but feel free to imagine it with any superman!

it isn’t the most comfortable position to be in. you’ve been kneeling on the floor for quite some time now, waiting for your assigned client. your palms begin to sweat to a minimal but uncomfortable degree. did i fuck up already? you ask yourself as your mind clouds with questions, doubts, and even judgement regarding this new job.

“jesus, what did i get myself into…” you recall the long process it took for you to end up here. the intensive (and ridiculously long) process of reading and signing multiple forms and documents almost had you backing out of this opportunity. though looking back at it, it was understandable since it’s quite unheard of to be… a sex worker for superheroes.

for an incredible pay, your privacy will essentially be stripped away starting from today. all phone messages, calls, and social media activities will be monitored during your venture as a sex worker, and that post-graduate life was not going to pay itself. for the most part, so far everything seemed… great? being driven to work by a chauffeur, having your own personal room and health coverage provided, and most importantly… eating free lunch was not bad at all.

or maybe you’re just naïve.

all you had to do was kneel and suck a few superhumans off. as the newbie, you were told that you’ll be starting on gloryhole duty due to privacy reasons; at least until you built enough camaraderie. though, you didn’t even mind since there would certainly be less strain on your body.

you couldn’t help but snicker at the mere thought of an entire league of superheroes holding a meeting regarding this subject matter. especially since almost everyone in the world, including you, holds these superheroes in such high regard.

“meeting is adjourned until 9 am tomorrow! until then, please help yourself to some delicious food trucks from outer spac-“ your humorous imitation of a noble superhero is silenced when you hear the door opening. within your private booth, all that blocks you from meeting your approaching client is another door with a hole cut through.

your curiosity is piqued when you catch a sight of the man’s physique through the hole. plaid shirt and jeans aside, and assuming he had to underdress, he’s huge. maybe because you’re kneeling right now, or maybe it’s the fact that you’ve never been near a superhero before, but you couldn’t help but be in awe at the size of the man. your eyes complete a full body scan by the time he approaches the door and before you could say something, he does.

“sorry i was late-“ a gentle voice echoes behind the door. contrary to his soft voice, the man’s large hands work aggressively at his belt, unlooping the leather with impatience yet eagerness as he anticipates the mouth that’s been waiting for his arrival. “there was this whole thing with this cat in this tree and then this school bus got hijacked- not my best day, unfortunately.”

“i’m sorry to hear that. sounds like a stressful day, yeah?” your voice is compassionate. you felt bad for the unnamed superhero and a part of you wanted to continue the conversation further, but your job isn’t to listen to their feelings. it’s to pleasure.

“yeah…” a huge sigh of relief expels from the man’s dry throat when he pulls his pants down. frustration stains another one of your client’s sigh, clearly troubled by the restrictive fabric guarding his erection. you watch with parted lips as he couldn’t help but give himself a needy stroke through his tight briefs, fondling his balls then beelining his palm to the very plump tip of his cock. your own cock hardens at this scene, and you find yourself doing the very same. mimicking his impatient hand to tend to the sensitive pressure below, you tiptoe the fine line between frustration and pleasure as your tightening pants and briefs define what it means to be an absolute nuisance. “very stressful.”

it doesn’t take much time before you’re faceful of cock and somehow, you manage to salivate more than you did a minute ago. the man’s throbbing erection is brimmed with thick pre-cum, stress practically leaving his body with every drip. it’s a heavenly sight that’s enough to make you stick your tongue out just in time to catch the substance into your mouth, not wanting to waste a single drop. the salty taste always catches you off-guard yet at the same time, it puts you under a spell. a tantalizing spell that commands you to drag your warm tongue over and back the underside of his thick shaft, completely avoiding the plump glans to have his cock leak even more… stress.

the taste of his musk drives your palm further into your erection, palming at whatever you could as you preoccupy yourself with teasing the man. you almost felt bad for him. contrary to his build, his whimpers are… so small, so weak. you notice his hands grip over the top of the barrier, and it turns you on upon realizing how this supposed hero could become so fragile at the simple taunt of your tongue.

“please…” the superhero whimpers out, needlessly fucking the air in hopes of granting his cock some type of friction. you’re amazed, and a little proud, by how much pre-cum he’s been leaking by now, and it all goes right onto your tongue. the wet muscle follows the natural curve of his cock to meet up with the wet and plump head. his hips buckle into the barrier and feeling it shake, you keep him steady by wrapping your hand around his shaft. you’re addicted at this point. addicted to the salty taste of his pre-cum as your tongue licks and explores into the slit of his cock, while at the same time, your hand works at his large cock in slow, but steady strokes.

“oh christ-“ he breathes out, repeating the same two words under his shaky breath as you continue to pleasure him with your tongue and hand. after a few licks, you pull away to give your tongue a break. in doing so, your grip tightens around his shaft to pace your strokes quicker. when you find a moment where your wrist needs a break, you let your client catch his breath. his cock throbbing more and more with every passing second when your tongue and hand aren’t exploring him, and you bask in the sight of it. you believe you deserve a medal at this point. not for doing a great job (though, it doesn’t seem too far-fetched), but for having control. you haven’t even sucked him off yet, but you’re content on remaining just like this for a while longer. though, that wouldn’t be fair for the superhero.

before he could whimper out another plea, your warm mouth finally wraps around the head of his cock and your ears perk at the sound of his low moan almost instantly. your hand returns to its rightful position around the lower base of his penis as you cycle your tongue over the glans, satisfying your need to taste his musk once more. seconds later, your hand lets go when you push your head farther, taking in an inch more of the hero’s cock. your knees dig into the floor as you push your head more and more, stretching your mouth with his cock until you feel yourself gagging.

“fuck.” you sniffle out when you pull back. perhaps you were challenging yourself too hard. you think to yourself as you catch your breath, using the remaining moment to sloppily jerk him off with your saliva. part of you wanted to challenge yourself to deepthroat him, impress your client on the first day. but you already know you wouldn’t be able to take it… at least, for now.

“you could hurt someone with this, y’know?” for some reason, you thought you needed to crack a joke as if there was an awkward silence that needed to be filled. maybe you just wanted to hear him talk again. his voice is warm and inviting, somewhat fitting for a superhero or even a television host as the moment you hear his voice again, you felt safe.

“i have before- oh god.” you lube up his cock with your spit as you continue to jerk him off, refraining yourself from fucking his slit with your tongue again to concentrate on his words. “which is why i don’t do this much- sex and stuff… it’s all troublesome, really.”

“yeah?” and just when you talked yourself out of challenging yourself, you feel the competitive spark ignite inside of you again. “well, i guess you just have to find the right one. could be anyone, even people you just met.” you try to play it nonchalantly, hoping that double-handing his wet cock would distract him.

he was beyond speechless at this point, moans drawn out by means of your sloppy strokes. you swear you can hear his heartbeat behind the barrier when you lean your head closer to suck him off again. you moan along with him, drawing out every breath of yours as you bob your head up and down, taking more of his cock every time you come down. your hand twists and strokes the remaining few inches that isn’t violated by your tongue and mouth, following your mouth like a reel as your intent to make him cum is fervent more than ever.

it hurts. your mouth hurts by how large your client is and tears brim in your eyes as you hold yourself back from gagging. but you don’t stop yourself because you’ll know it’ll be worth it. your endeavor to please him to the fullest has you drowning out his groans into white noise and you can barely register the fact that you’ve been on paused for a while now. you find yourself in a closer position than before, where your mouth is open, lips fully pressed around the carved hole as the superhero fucks into your mouth, fucks into your gags like you’re his personal flesh light. you didn’t care how dirty you looked, how you had saliva and spittle dripping out from the corners of your mouth and onto the floor. who would see? and you didn’t care that you were too preoccupied to touch your dick right now, because you know you’ll be thinking about this very moment for the rest of your life. and right now, you didn’t know if you wanted to be covered in his cum or to have your mouth be filled with it.

remaining in this position, you glance your teary eyes up at his grip over the barrier again. the strength in his grasp forms small cracks in the material of the barrier and that was the sign you knew you fulfilled your sense of purpose.

“christ, i’m going to come-“ your eyes shut again and you breathe through your noise, bracing for impact. he pushes his cock down your throat and hits that sore spot one last time before unloading his cum into your mouth with a stifled groan. warm, hot seed quickly fills you up and you pull your head back an inch to fully enclose your lips around his cock, ensuring none escape your lips.

in a heartbeat, you swallowed it all. his warm cum coats the back of your throat like medicine and you moan around his cock at the taste, intoxicated. you made sure to lick every inch of his cock clean, calmly slurping any saliva and cum that threatens to leave your mouth as you pull back up with a soft pop, swallowing the remaining remnants of his stress away.

“t-thank you. i needed that…” he pulls his softening cock out, careful in avoiding the hole as he was still sensitive. “did you need a tissue or anything? i think i have one somewhere…” you can hear him rummage through what you can only assume would be his bag and you find it charming, a quiet laugh leaving your swollen lips as you lean back onto your elbows to take a breather and stretch your legs out.

“no, no. i’m okay. i, uh, don’t think i wasted a drop.” you proudly brag, only for him to respond with a shy chuckle. you watch him tidy himself through the hole from a leaned back view, occasionally tilting your head in various angles to see if you could catch a glimpse on who the mysterious superhero is, but the barrier remains an obstruction to your view.

“well then, i… uh… thank you for your service.” he covers up the silence with another laugh and you join in, re-adjusting his pants and belt before turning his back towards you and heading out the booth. “i’ll try not to be late next time.”

© nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[survey--s]

425.

Have you done any of the same things as me? [2022 Edition] by joybucket

experienced something amazing and miraculous? 🤩 Not miraculous, but galloping down the beach was a pretty amazing experience, especially as my lessons were all over the place with COVID restrictions and work getting in the way. I even get to move up to the experienced group next time, hahah.

switched to a new primary care doctor? Nope.

tried a new medication? 💊 Hmm, not that I can remember.

felt afraid to leave the house? No, I can’t say I’ve ever felt like that - apart from once in Nottingham when someone with a gun was on the loose and people were advised to stay indoors until he was caught.

had a new neighbor move in? Not yet, but our neighbours on the left moved out a while ago - i think the landlord is renovating and selling the place, though.

met a new neighbor? Yeah, it turns out Kerry’s sister lives directly over the road lol. 

read the entire Bible? Nope.

had a smoothie that tasted really, really good? 🍹 None spring to mind right now, but it’s certainly possible!

had some significant health issues? No, just a couple of days where my back was bad.

made a lot of surveys? I don’t think I made any surveys this year.

taken a lot of surveys? Not as many as usual. I’ve gone through phases of it but work has been really busy and I’m normally shattered by the time I get home, shower and eat.

gave yourself a significant haircut? 💇‍♀️ Nope, just a couple of trims.

discov.ered a new YouTube channel you really liked? Nah, I don’t really watch much YouTube.

discovered a new favorite book? 📖 Yes! I LOVE the Alice series by Christina Henry.

re-read a book you really liked? 📖 Yeah, I re-read Neverwhere and The Night Circus this year.

debated reaching out to someone and asking for prayer, but didn't? 🙏 Nah, I’m not remotely religious.

started taking a new birth control pill? No.

experienced anaphylaxis? Nope.

...and then had to be on Prednisone for three months because of it? That’s pretty precise, lol. Anyway, no.

gained weight from a medication? Nah, my weight gain is because I love food too much, hahah. If I didn’t do the job I do, I would be so overweight lol.

...and then lost some of it once you were off the medication, but not all of it? ....

discovered you had steroid-induced diabetes? Nope.

daydreamed a lot? 💭 Yeah, I do that a lot at work.

had overdue library books? 📚 I haven’t been to a library in about a decade lol.

worn a mask? 😷 I think I did way back in January? I remember having to wear on at the dentist right at the end of 2020 so I think I must have done until they became optional which was maybe in March.

worn a mask when cleaning, because you're allergic to dust mites? 😷 Nope.

went days without washing your hair? No, I wash my hair everyday.

felt overjoyed one day and then depressed the next? Not quite to either of those extremes, but yes.

thought about how much you missed going to church? ⛪️ No.

thought about how much you missed painting? 🖼 Nah, I’ve never really been big on painting.

....and thought about how you'd like to start painting again? 🎨 Nope.

found out that someone got hit by a car and died while crossing a street that you cross all the time? No, not so far as I’m aware anyway.

enjoyed watching the snow fall? ❄️ Yeah, we had snow a couple of weeks ago.

wished you had a car? 🚘 I already do.

talked to your mom on the phone? 📱 Yeah, I talk to my mum on the phone a couple of times a weke.

talked to your mom online? 💬 Yeah, we talk on messenger most days.

realized none of your bras fit you anymore? Nope, they all still work just fine.

received a package in the mail? 📦 Loads. I do pretty much all my shopping online, including all of the food/medication for the animals, so I probably get 2-3 parcels a week on average, but they’re never very exciting.

started watching Youtube Shorts regularly? No. Never even heard of them, lol.

practiced self-hypnosis? 😵 Nope.

discovered a new food you really liked? Nothing is coming to mind, but I’m sure I have at some point. OH actually, the Sea Salt and Chardonnay vinegar crisps from Tesco are amazing, hahah.

discovered your bike had a flat tire? 🚴 No, but I had two flat tyres on my car within a month back in September.

made a new playlist of songs you really liked? 🎶 Sure, I did a few of those on Spotify.

got rid of a ton of old clothes? 👚 Nope.

ran/walked a Christmas-themed race? 🏃‍♀️ NOPE. Never gonna happen, haha.

watched your city's Christmas parade? Bold of you to assume we all live in cities, lol. The nearest city is over an hour away from here.

enjoyed eating salads? 🥗 Blah, no.

enjoyed eating chocolate pie? I’ve never had chocolate pie.

celebrated Thanksgiving alone? I don’t celebrate Thanksgiving.

celebrated your birthday alone? No, I was with my husband.

didn't really have a good birthday? Nah, it was pretty good. I’m sorry yours wasn’t, though!

almost died multiple times? No. I did fall of a horse though, that was interesting lol.

enjoyed reading the Bible? 📖 Nope.

danced around your living room? 💃 Sure, a few times.

written in cursive? ✍️ Sure, all the time..

written in a journal? 📓 No. Just this.

written in a one-line-a-day journal? 📔 Nope.

accidentally dropped a dish and broke it? Yep, on Christmas Day actually lol.

went for a walk through the cemetery on Halloween? Not on Halloween, no, but one of my regular dog walks takes me through one of the local cemeteries.

not brought your camera with you somewhere, and then wished you had? 📸 No, I always have my phone on me.

discovered a new really good book? I have indeed.

read a book with a character named Simone in it? I did not.

had a doctor get irritated with you? Nope, I haven’t been to the doctors at all this year.

had a doctor not believe you about something? Nope.

broke out in acne all over your face? No, just the odd spot here and there.

found out one of your friends had COVID? 🦠 Sure, loads of people have had it.

wondered if you had COVID? 🦠 Yeah, I felt like I was getting a cold earlier in the week, but it never turned into anything and I feel fine now.

played Mahjong on your phone? 🀄️ Nope.

used a lot of emojis? 🦄 🤪 💃 I use them same 4-5 over and over again.

wore a cheetah-print mask? Nope.

worshiped God? 💃 Nooooooooooooope.

uploaded some new photos to Facebook? Yeah, loads of them.

sorted through some old photos on your computer? Yeah, a few times.

wondered why your fridge was making funny noises? Actually yes. It turns out there was a bit of wire that had come loose.

gone for lovely and enchanting walks in the fall? 🍁 Yes, most definitely. My favourite time of year for walks.

wore the same outfit for days? Like, without washing? Maybe the same jeans or jumper, but not the whole outfit.

worn slipper socks? Yes.

gone out to eat with your parents? Yeah, with my mum quite a few times. My dad still isn’t very comfortable going to restaurants and stuff.

enjoyed looking at your friends' baby pictures on Facebook? Nah, I’m afraid babies don’t interest me lol.

wondered what one of your friends was going to name her baby? No, nobody close to me had a baby anyway.

wished someone would invite you to church, but no one did? I have no interest in attending church.

took more medication than you were supposed to when you were in severe pain? Nope.

wished autocorrect didn't make so many annoying errors? Mine doesn’t really do that.

wished your cramps would go away? I mean, yeah of course.

enjoyed having a conversation with a random stranger while waiting in line for something? NOPE. I absolutely hate awkward, pointless small talk. It makes me so uncomfortable and I never know what to say, hahah.

wished you could see your cousins more? Not really.

thought about how much you used to love church? No.

had a certain traumatic incident keep coming back to haunt you? A little bit.

debated trying to get to know your neighbors more?  No.

not eaten anything sweet on your birthday? Nope, I even bought myself my own cake this year, aha.

....for the first time ever, since you normally eat cake on your birthday? No.

eaten a lot of mango popsicles? I’ve had a couple, but I wouldn’t say lots.

[egcdeath]

Prompt!

Dad!Steve is grilling for his son, the picky eater.

Because whether Steve is Dad or not, he is absolutely for sure a Grillmaster™️ and on this hill I will die.

dietary restrictions

summary: steve is a god on the grill. unfortunately, your son can’t attest to this.

warnings: fluff, domesticity, kids being kids

word count: 752

author’s note: i kinda put my own spin on this prompt, but i hope you still enjoy it!

you can find more of dad!steve here!!

One of the best parts of domesticating your husband was how he’d taken on an affinity for cooking. Being a full time stay at home dad, he had plenty of time to try out new recipes, make creative meals, and bake you loaves of bread for you to pass onto family and friends.

Though Steve had become very comfortable in the kitchen, he was truly in his element when he used the Blackstone in your backyard. You certainly had no problem with this— you’d be a fool to complain when you got to take in the sight of Steve standing on the patio with sunglasses perched on his nose while your children frolicked around your back yard.

Steve announced that the food was done, and everyone sped to the grill. You assisted your children as they grabbed the toppings of their choice for their burgers, along with grabbing them a few skewers of grilled vegetables. You gave Steve a quick peck of gratitude on the cheek before heading over to the patio table.

Sarah dug right into her food, quiet and deep in thought as she chewed the food in front of her. James… not so much. He pushed some grilled zucchini around his plate, and side eyed his burger.

“What’s wrong, bud?” Steve asked James. “You’ve barely touched a thing.”

“I’m actually vegetarian now.”

“Are you really? When did this start?”

He shrugged, “all week I’ve been one.”

“All week? James, I packed you a turkey sandwich every day this week.” You could see the hint of amusement on Steve’s face, but there was curiosity there as well.

“But turkey isn’t meat,” James countered, finally eating a grilled vegetable. You had to restrain yourself from giggling at the comment.

“It… uh, it is. Have you seen a turkey before? They’re like, really big birds. And birds are meat.”

“Oh.”

“It’s okay though! I can start packing you something else now that I know. But next time you go vegetarian, please tell me right away. I mean, I could’ve grilled you a mushroom instead of a burger.”

“A mushroom? You know that’s fungus, right?”

“What’s fungus?” Sarah asked, a bit of ketchup on her cheek.

“A mushroom is fungus, Sarah, and funguses are dirty little plants that grow from the ground. Never eat them,” James warned.

“I don’t know if that’s a fair assessment,” you chimed in. “They can be pretty tasty if you cook it right. I don’t think there’s anything Daddy grills that isn’t good. Even a ‘dirty little plant.’”

James mulled over your words for a moment before making a declaration. “Not even Daddy could save a fungus.”

Steve did not like having his grilling skills questioned. He was ready to move onto the next topic. “What prompted this decision anyway, big guy?”

“Well Max is a vegetarian now, so I wanted to do it too.”

“If Max was jumping on a cliff, would you jump too?” Sarah chimed in.

“That’s not how the phrase goes at all! It’s if your friends jumped off a cliff, would you do it too? And I would. But only if it was a cool cliff.”

“Vegetarian is a boring cliff.”

“You’re a boring cliff!”

“No, you are!”

Steve finally interrupted their little argument after a second, “okay, alright, that’s enough about cliffs. Neither of you are boring cliffs. You’re both my exciting, interesting cliffs.”

“Can your more exciting cliff have dessert early?” James asked.

“You’re equally exciting. I guess since you’re not having the burger…” Steve looked over at you for approval.

“Christ, Steve,” you muttered. “Finish your vegetables first, then you can have ice cream.”

Zucchini and bell peppers were quickly being stuffed into mouths, no manners attached. You would’ve said something, but you were honestly just relieved that the cliff discourse was over.

“All gone,” James beamed, showing you his mostly empty plate.

Sarah was far too busy chewing to announce that she was done, but it was clear to you anyway.

“Good job, guys. I’ll be right back,” you grabbed their now empty plates and walked inside, dropping them in the sink before grabbing bowls, a pint of ice cream, and a scoop.

Sarah and James cheered as they saw you come back to the patio, far too excited to be having dessert this early.

If you didn’t know better, you’d guess this was some elaborate scheme your children set up to have dessert for dinner. But it couldn’t be. There was no way they were that clever.

Right?

[phoneybeatlemania-bit-the-dust]

i think this is one of the quotes anon was talking about: https://thegilly.tumblr.com/post/29568742275/the-beatles-and-me-by-neil-aspinall-scanned

(Link) (CW eating disorders)

That magazine article actually breaks my heart - the way that he’s legitimately torturing himself is just so upsetting. And in reading about John dieting the way he did, I can especially empathise with him because ive had a lot of the same experiences.

Some points I took note of from the article are:

1. John ate one meal a day, which was steak with a large salad - that means he was probably eating less then a 1000 calories a day, and id guess he was maybe only getting about 800 (?) calories a day at most with that diet. 800 calories or less is literally starvation.

2. “John wont even look at bread” - this is the definition of an ‘unsafe food’. People with restrictive ED’s do eat, but they tend to have “safe” and “unsafe” foods. I suspect John considers bread unsafe because he knows its a binge food, and a food that he thinks will cause him weight gain - again, its just so sad that he would put himself through this misery. I also think that he probably felt meats were probably relatively safe for him to eat.

3. He had two different suits - one for when he was at his normal, healthy weight and another for when he had lost weight. He would bring them both on tour with him because his weight would fluctuate so much.

4. His regular weight was about 159lbs; apparently he was around 139lbs when he died (at least, thats what a quick google search tells me, so I don’t know how true that is. But certainly he was far thinner by the time he died).

5. “Right before a tour, he’ll do everything he can to lose weight” - this appears to speak especially to the theory that Johns ED might have been sparked largely by the pressures of fame and publicity.

6. “John hardly touches his salad, and he wont even look at the other boys eat.” - He’s eating the most miserable meal on the planet guys :’(

7. “John begins to look at me apprehensively. He has hunger pains in his eyes! Finally, when he is about to “break down” I…pull out the meat sandwiches.” - He was in actual, physical pain because he was so hungry.

8. “John takes the meat out of the sandwiches and eats every tiny sliver he can find. Then he stuffs the leftover slices of bread into a bag, which I take from him (so that he wont break down again and eat those).” - I would constitute this behaviour as a “binge”, because to me a binge is not based necessarily on the quantity of food you eat, or the amount of calories you take in, but more so about how in control and contented you are during and after eating. John wasn’t in control here, and its because its his bodies natural reaction when its in starvation mode.

9. “[Johns] main complaint is ‘How come Paul never gains an ounce — and he eats twice as much as I do?’”

10. “John is sure some kind of curse is set on his head — or is stomach as it were!”

Im not going to judge everyone for seemingly not making any real efforts to help John recover from his ED, because I don’t think ED’s became something that the general public were aware of until about the early 80s with Karen Carpenters death - and its taken years for people to even really begin recognising that a lot of men also suffer from ED’s! And so im not going to criticise them for not recognising that John legitimately was displaying symptoms of an ED, but I do think its just really sad that they were all watching John starve and torture himself, and couldn’t really do anything about it. And because they weren’t recognising him as mentally ill here, they probably all just accepted his diet as a bit of a laugh, whilst still knowing there was something more sinister underpinning it.*

(*I wonder however what Paul might have thought about all this, because we know that Paul was prone to being a sort of caretaker for John, and in a lot of ways “mothered” him. I feel like Paul would’ve recognised that only eating one meal a day was a problem, and maybe sort of laughed it off a bit because he couldn’t have known it was a legitimate mental illness - but also, I hope he would try to encourage John to eat. Id like to hear him talk about this in an interview someday, though I doubt anyone would ask him about this stuff)

This is just genuinely one of the most depressing things ive ever read about John, and if its a topic you feel comfortable reading id encourage anyone to give it a read (although if you think it could be damaging for your mental health, id say avoid it!).

And overall, im just really surprised that no biographer appears to have ever really spoken about this topic in a nuanced manner.

[secret-rendezvous1d]

“already? do i really have that much of an effect on you?”

hello, hi!

here is the much anticipated part three to ‘you owe me’; the first part is linked here and the second part is linked here. the second scene of this story is simply all smut and nothing more than that - i tried to make it as realistic as i could so i apologise for how shocking it may read to you. i’ve not written smut in such a long, long time that i’ve lost the knack for it. i’m not the best when it comes to writing sex scenes and all that so i did try my best. 

like, reblog and send in some feedback, please. it’s greatly appreciated and it helps me work out what you want to see and what you are after. if you want something specific then do let me know! i’d love to try and write something for you.

thank you. enjoy.

-

“already? do i really have that much of an effect on you?” spencer reid x female reader (reader insert imagine) word count; 3.4k

summary; after days of being teased by spencer, yn can’t control her feelings as soon as they arrive home and she doesn’t care where spencer suffices those feeling.

-

The plane ride home had been like any other journey home after a case had come to a conclusion.

Everyone scattered themselves amongst the confined space of the jet, with their own belongings to occupy them as they busied themselves for the ride home, doing anything to pass the time quicker. The coffee-maker was turned on upon their arrival and brewing a fresh batch of decaf coffee for them to sip at and to give them a little energy after been run ragged over the last couple of days, the fridge had been stocked with water for those who didn’t quite fancy a hot beverage and peanuts and other sorts of nuts had been left, in packets, for them to snack on throughout the duration. The blinds were ready to be pulled down but it hadn’t mattered because it was close to midnight and there was no outside light that would have caused them problems when trying to nap.

Hotch had taken his seat diagonal to Morgan in the collection of four seats, a small coffee mug in his hand as he sipped slowly at the liquid that burned his throat and made him feel a little more relaxed in his seat, his mind trying to not worry over filing the reports that would come in tomorrow morning when everyone had gotten some well-deserved rest. He was worn out from work and tired from working the longest days he’d worked and all he wanted was nothing more than to be at home with Jack, having a chat with mummy and tucking him in bed and reading him his bedtime story, before he conked out for the night and woke up feeling refreshed the next morning, ready for whatever was going to hit them in the next briefing. And Morgan, well Morgan did what he did any other time they were flying home; he was occupied with the headphones over his head, which played music that helped him divulge into his own world after a stressful day, knowing that he would be home and in his own bed before he knew it and not cramped up under a table and in to a seat that restricted his movements. The flight always bored him on the way home because, what could they talk about when they were exhausted from everything they had dealt with and had no reason to throw ideas around?

JJ slept in one of the singular chairs, curled up under the thin material of her FBI jacket because the plane felt a little cooler than normal and no one actually knew why, the other singular chair occupied by Emily who had found herself drifting in and out of sleep because of the turbulence that kept jolting her from the slim chance of catching some shuteye. A dream starting behind her closed eyes and being ripped away from her when the plane bobbed in the air under the cruel winds that were in the flight-path back to Virginia. Rossi was nose-deep in the book he had brought along to do research with, his laptop open on the table with a brand-new document opened up and a pair of hands that typed and typed and typed out the newest story he was close to sharing with the world upon his new book’s release. Eyes barely leaving the screen before him, the silencing rumble of the jet engines giving him the space to work with no distractions and no interruptions because everyone could barely string a sentence together and hope to hold a conversation, and every time he glanced around for a screen-break, he saw no open eyes watching him or staring into space.

Occupying the sofa had been Spencer and YN which, at the beginning of the flight, had caused some joking taunts and jeers because the team had finally gotten wind of what had happened before they were called in for the case and had an inkling in their guts that the moment, that had been so crudely interrupted, was bound to continue whenever they had the chance to start it back up again. But it wasn’t long before the taunts came to a halt and everyone drifted into their own worlds, leaving YN and Spencer to cosy up together, arms wrapped around one another, to nap - because YN had to drive home once they landed and Spencer really didn’t want her driving on no sleep because he knew of the possibilities.

And napping is all they did until they landed back in Quantico.

They said their goodbyes on the plane, whilst gathering their things and stretching the pained kinks in their backs and shoulders and necks, which was a strange thing because they all walked back into the unit together and stepped foot in the bullpen together and left things on their desks at the same time. A second set of goodbyes being shared, this time with hugs and handshakes and subtle nods being exchanged between the group of them, before they took their chance to escape.

Home was calling for them and they certainly weren’t going to ignore that.

“Are you hungry? I haven’t eaten since this morning and I could do with grabbing something to eat. Shall we grab something on the way back?” Spencer wondered, the elevator doors closing and shutting out the waving hands coming from Emily and JJ from the distance, shrugging their coats on being the last thing YN had seen before her view was restricted. Taking them down to the ground floor where they were expected to check-out of their duties only to re-sign back in during the following morning, his fingers laced with YN’s as they stood in close proximity in the largely-spaced elevator, “we could grab a burger from the burger van opposite? I know it’s not much and it should still be open but-”

“We have food at home, Spence,” YN assured him, squeezing his hand as the elevator came to a stop on the final floor and opened, revealing the ground floor that was empty of people. The tiled floors shining under the bright lights hanging from suspensions above, almost glaring and much brighter as it contrasted against the dark skies outside, squeaking footprints echoing around the large room as they exited the elevator and let the doors close behind them. For two in the morning, YN would have been surprised if anyone was still working into the early hours. “I just fancy a grilled cheese sandwich and a cup of tea, to be honest.”

“A grilled cheese sandwich?” Spencer gawked in surprise, coming to a halt and stopping her alongside him, eyebrows furrowed on his browline, “since when have you ever eaten a grilled cheese sandwich? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you make one, let alone suggest making one.”

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Spencer Reid,” she grinned up at him and giggled when he looked a little surprised at her, his feet carrying on towards the exit and enticing her to follow (well, more like dragged along to start their way back to the doors again),, “I sometimes have one before I come to work, for breakfast. Don’t look so surprised, for goodness sake. They fill me up till lunchtime because we never know when lunch will be.”

“You don’t strike me as a greasy grilled cheese sandwich kind of girl,” he admitted, pushing the door open with his palm and letting her exit the building before him, hands still laced together as the cold air hit at their exposed skin. Her car was parked in a car-park opposite, just a short walk from where they had left the revolving doors of the bureau, in a space that had her name written all over it that kept it empty for her, in case of emergencies. “You’re more of a pancakes and syrup girl with strawberries and blueberries. All sweet and sugar, all things nice and delicious.”

“Oh, Spencer,” she tutted playfully, “I thought it was obvious that there’s a bit more to me than just sweet.”

She winked as she clambered into the car, seating herself comfortably in the driver's seat and swinging her go-bag into the footwell of the passenger side, starting the ignition to get the heating going as soon as possible so they could have a warm fifteen minute drive back to their apartment. She shrugged out of her coat and folded it in half, chucking it upon the back seats with her handbag following in suit, joining an opened and half-drunk water bottle that sat had been leaning upon the seat behind her for days. Spencer slipped his seatbelt on, clipping it in the clip beside his hip, setting his leather bag beside her go-bag (which had a couple of his folded shirts and a waistcoat in that she promised she would keep in good condition), feet squished up but he could deal with that until they got home.

“Let’s go,” she hummed, slipping the car into gear and pulling off in the direction their apartment was located, “I’m feeling rather hungry.”

+

“I thought you were hungry?” Spencer questioned in a state of disorientation, “we’re both hungry, baby. Come on.”

Her sudden actions of pushing him against the front door as soon as he had closed it behind him, of dropping their bags in haste so she could drag her hands down his clothed chest, of her lips barely leaving the skin of his neck had him taken aback. Really shocking, really out of the blue, yet he had no reason to push her away or move into the room like she hadn’t just playfully attacked him - he knew what she wanted, it was impossible not to know what she wanted, but this wasn’t exactly how he had planned on giving it to her.

“I mean, I am hungry but never said I was hungry for food, per se,” she admitted slowly, “I’m a little hungry for something else right now Spence and I’m hoping you can suffice that feeling. I know you can.”

“Is that so?”

She nodded and he allowed her face back into the crook of his neck, feeling her warm breath flush over the base of his neck, the bump of his Adam's apple twitched in his throat as he swallowed hard and let his eyes close in pleasure and pure satisfaction. It was nice for her to take charge every once in a while, showing him just what she wanted from him instead of him having to work out where she wanted him the most, and he was going to take full appreciation of the moment and she nibbled and bit and tugged at the skin of his neck.

“Yeah,” she puffed, a little out of breath as she littered kisses across the highest stretch of his chest, just below where his neck began and worked her way up the rest of the expanse  neck on the side she had yet covered in bite marks and saliva, “I don’t care where, just- fill this hunger.”

“Already? Do I really have that much of an effect on you?” He wondered, asking with a hint of humour in his voice. His hands, that had been resting upon her hips, cupped her head and he let his palms mould into the curves of her skull, enough of a touch to bring her face to a place where he could look her deep in the eyes. “We’ve only just stepped foot through the door after working non-stop for the last few days and this is what you want to do at half two in the morning? Right here, right now?”

“You have no idea,” she whispered, arms snacking around his waist and pulling herself closer to him, chest to chest and their knee-caps pretty much touching, his crotch just a mere few centimetres from brushing against hers - and, if she moved forward just those mere few centimetres, she would have felt the effect she had on him. “I can’t wait any longer, Spence. Please?”

Almost having her beg for him, begging for his pleasure in the only way he knew how, was enough for him to buckle under her pressure and give in to her needs.

His hands came down to her jaw, the heels of his palms sitting underneath her chin, and she looked helpless in his eyes. She looked so helpless and vulnerable, her eyes wide and her lips in a squished smile between his hands, her tongue coming out to swipe at the bottom lip that had jutted out more prominently. Silently pleading for his silent confirmation that she could undo the belt from around his middle and let his trousers fall to the floor with the shake of his hips - she didn’t care that his trainers were left on, she didn’t care that his mismatched socks (that drove her crazy because there was never the same pair matched up once they’d left the dryer) were on show, she didn’t care that they were surrounded by a mess of their belongings - before she could pull his boxers down and release the cock that was begging for a release. Her fingertips teasingly dragged up and down his arms, shoulder to elbow from elbow to shoulder, her eyes full of inquisitivity.

He flicked her fringe out of his eyes and let the brief look down to the floor be all she needed to let her fingers work at undoing his belt. The clinking of metal colliding filled the room under the rhythm of her quick hands, his belt hanging loose so she could undo the button and the zip of his trousers, no need for a shake of his hips because the corduroy material slipped down his legs without any need of an aid. Her eyes darting down to the black boxers tight to his hips, a bulge so mind blowingly prominent that she couldn’t stop her hands from tucking under the elastic.

“Undress me,” she mumbled, her focus still on removing the boxer shorts from his legs, fingers curling around the elastic hem and giving them a tug down his thighs. His fingers awkwardly worked at undoing the buttons of her peach blouse, the ultimate urge to rip the material in two and have the plastic buttons flinging off in all directions with a promise spewing from his mouth that he would buy her a new blouse as a replacement was almost too tough to ignore, nimbly working away to reveal the peach-coloured bra beneath the material. Her breasts looked so perfect and blossomed in eyes. “You question your effect but you have no idea the effect you have on me.”

An arm snaked around her waist and up the expanse of her back, a thumb and a forefinger unhooking the bra (which was a skill he liked to be proud of - yeah, he may have been considered a nerd in high-school but he was a nerd that could do something better than those peers who showed authority to him with bullying), whilst his other arm stayed bent between their bodies with a finger and a thumb unbuttoning the button of her black work trousers. Her hips wiggling a little more vigorously than she necessarily needed to express but he wasn’t complaining; any chance to see both her bum and her boobs jiggle like jelly and he would take it.

“Fuck the foreplay,” she grappled for the back of his neck, bringing his lips to hers and connecting their mouths into a smacker that had them breathing in and out through their noses and had them doing everything with their eyes shut because they didn’t need to see each other to know their way around each other. His thumbs hooked into the lace of her knickers, slipping the soft material down her legs, leaving her half dressed on top and bare from the waist down, “show me how much you love me, Spencer.”

His arms wrapped around her waist, tapping her naked hip with the tips of his fingers, as a wordless indication for her to jump up and wrap her legs around his middle. Her arms bracing her weight and hoisting herself up, their lips barely detaching from each other as they worked hard on who could kiss the other more passionately, tongues in a battle as they let out gentle moans into each other’s mouths.

If she wanted to be shown then she was going to be shown.

She wrapped her fist around the girth of his cock and gave his length a couple of quick pumps, one after the other after the other after the other, until his hips were jerking forward and looking for more, pre-cum dribbling down her hand and sticking with a sticky sheen to her wrist. She could feel it and it only made her cravings for him deepen more than ever. Her legs wrapped tighter around his waist as she let his darkened tip, leaking and erect enough to do anything hands-free, slip between her folds and he filled her up so beautifully, so deliciously and he knew all the right spots inside her that had her squirming. With a swing of his body, he turned them around, her back colliding with the oak door with such a force that the wind had pumped out of her in the sound of a moan.

“You owe me, remember?”

Her whine that entered his ear had him melting under her touch, his mouth open with contentment and dragging down the stretch of her neck that linked with her collarbone, his hips working twice as fast as he gave thrust after thrust after thrust deep inside her.

The apartment was filled with moans and groans and lowly spoken profanities that masked the pleasure they felt in such an act of intimacy, pants and grunts occasionally flushing across her skin as he suckled at the skin beneath her neck and left another hickey behind. One that looked brighter than the others, which had bruised up over the last few days and were slowly disappearing, and the thought of covering it up with make-up and scarves for the rest of the week would have driven her insane if she wasn’t so invested in his cock thrusting deeply into her, having her toes curling each and every time he deepened the push of his hips. How could she think of anything else when he was so perfect, doing such a perfect job, with a perfect cock that was giving her such perfect pleasure?

He had dragged the teasing out for days; the kissing in the hotel room that gave her the impression he was enticing something to happen, the slip of his fingertips that ducked under the waistband of her knickers that had her thinking he was finally giving in, the smack on her bum when he walked passed her that only added fuel to the fire burning in the pit of her stomach. She was thankful that the anticipated round of sex had finally come, so she could finally come, and feel relieved that the period of teasing and whatever the female version of ‘blue-balls’ was finally over. And she was surprised that they had lasted as long as they had.

Her heels duck into the dip of his back, legs shaking around his waist as he brought her to orgasm, the illicit actions turning sloppy and slow and she could feel the jet-like spurts escape the tip of his cock and fill her up, each thrust now sounding wet as he groaned in her ear and lost the rhythm he had been following to greatly.

“How was that?” He hummed, a sheen of sweat covering his forehead, proof that he had done his best and he hoped she felt fulfilled and satisfied enough. His fringe stuck to his skin, curls standing in all directions and it would have definitely been considered ‘sex-hair’, but he looked cute post-sex and she wouldn’t have it any other way. She nodded, resting her chin on his shoulder, tilting her head so it came into the most gentlest of contact with his. “Yeah, I agree.”

They stayed there, standing against the door, for a little while longer. Her legs still tight around his waist like she was scared to lose him as soon as she let go, his cock still situated deep inside her and he could barely come down from the feeling of being erect because she felt so good around his girth; she took him so well, homed him so warmly and perfectly, and he just couldn’t bring himself to leaving that delectable wetness that swallowed him. She didn’t want to leave the comfort of his arms and he wasn’t ready to leave the warmth of her, not by any chance.

“I’m hungry now though,” she broke the silence and giggled, “reckon we could make grilled cheese sandwiches and eat them in bed?”

“You’re lucky Hotch doesn’t want us in early tomorrow,” he craned his neck back and looked at her, giving her nude bum a pat with his palms, her forehead coming to rest against his with a look in her eyes that only came post-sex and he found so gorgeously cute, “come on then. Grilled cheese and a cup of tea it is.”

[dwellordream]

“In the 1910s and 1920s, some people took particular offense to short skirts. Others were more disturbed by the sleeveless tops, delicate fabrics, and sheer stockings that young women fancied. Still others judged short hair the most troubling of fashion innovations. Yet no matter which aspect of the new styles they found more provocative, critics shared one fundamental conviction: They believed modern fashions to be part of a broader rebellion against conventional gender arrangements and therefore inextricably linked to the issue of female emancipation. Whether they talked about short skirts or short hair, they generally agreed that the new styles made women "much freer" and "more independent," both physically and psychologically, and that the reason for their enthusiastic embrace of the modern fashions lay in this fact. 

In the years since then, both popular and professional historians have tended to reproduce this belief. With few exceptions, they have presented postwar fashions as a sign of young women's refusal to accept the constraints of nineteenth-century femininity and as evidence of their insistence on new physical freedoms. Like commentators at the time, they have emphasized the ease and practicality of the new styles, assuming that it was these qualities that held particular appeal to young women in general and working women in particular. Such claims are not without merit. When asked why they liked the new styles, many women who embraced modern fashions in the 1910s and 1920s pointed to their simplicity and convenience. 

In retrospect, Henny Nedergaard, for example, explained that "old-fashioned dresses were so complicated. I remember in my childhood, it took forever for my mother to get dressed. The modern dresses were much easier. You just slipped them on—that was it." Charlotte Hansen also described the older styles of female dress as confining and appropriate only for a sedentary existence. "Our generation was different," she explained. "We were not content to just sit still and do nothing. Corsets and stays, that was not for us. We did not want to wear all those heavy clothes. They just did not fit us." According to Edith Jensen, the new styles "made it easier for women to move."

"Short dresses were much more practical," added Lily Enevold, "especially if you had to work. You couldn't really work in those long dresses." Some women endorsed short hair for the same reason. "Who in the world had time to comb and brush and put up long hair," Henriette Marie Markfeldt wanted to know, "when you had to be at work at seven o'clock in the morning? No, short hair was a lot easier." To deny that the new styles were in fact easier and more comfortable than the restrictive, corseted fashions and the elaborate coiffure of the nineteenth century would be pointless. 

But to argue that the new fashions freed women from physical restrictions and eliminated time-consuming grooming would be equally untrue. Short, narrow skirts did not exactly promote free and unrestricted mobility. Neither did the high heels that became so popular in the postwar era. Silk stockings may have felt more comfortable than the older wool stockings, but they were also more fragile and more frequently in need of mending. Similarly, short hair may have required less daily attention, but it demanded regular trimming, and when curls and waves became the new fashionable norm, most women had to spend considerable time, not to mention substantial sums of money, at the hairdresser. 

In addition, the new fashions demanded a slenderness that had not been a requirement for older generations of women. As fashion historian Valerie Steele has pointed out, stylistic change applies to bodies as well as clothes, and with the new, slimmer lines in women's clothing went slimmer female bodies. From the beginning of World War I, when the new fashionable styles first gained popularity, the "tyranny of slenderness" thus began its ascendancy over all women who wanted to be in style. In the postwar decade, this led to an unprecedented emphasis on dieting, a phenomenon still unfamiliar to most women in the early 1910s.

Yet already in the mid-1910s when the new styles were first introduced to broad audiences, advice on how to obtain a slender body became a regular feature in women's magazines. At first, such advice was rather infrequent and not particularly demanding. "The most efficient method is to eat minimally," one newspaper advised in 1915, acknowledging, however, that "this is of course not entirely convenient when one has a good cook." As a solution to this dilemma, the journalist recommended standing up for twenty minutes after each main meal, an exercise that supposedly would counteract the unfortunate effects of (too much) good food. 

Gradually, dieting became more rigorous and sophisticated, and by the mid-1920s beauty experts were prescribing strict diets of grapefruit, fish, and raw vegetables "not just for a few days at a time, but. . . day in and day out, year in and year out." Other recommended ways of acquiring the slender body were equally taxing. In addition to dieting, women were encouraged to engage in various forms of physical exercise, not for the pleasure this might entail but for the results it would produce. If both of these strategies failed, a variety of commercial products promised shortcuts to a slender body. 

From the early 1920s, a multitude of remedies, including oils, drinks, salts, and tablets, promised female consumers instant health and gradual thinness. Finally, women aiming for a sleek-looking body could—and very often did—turn to modernized versions of the traditional corset. Most famous for being discarded during the 1920s, corsets were in fact simply remodeled to suit the new styles. Replacing whalebone and canvas, tough elastic material flattened breasts and stomachs and eliminated the visible curves of hips and thighs. 

Obviously, then, the fashions that made women more mobile and less physically restrained also made them more self-conscious about measuring up to the new "look." And no matter which strategy women chose in order to obtain the desired shape and weight, they had to engage in the immensely demanding process of self-surveillance and self-disciplining that the American historian Joan Jacobs Brumberg has labeled the twentieth-century female "body project." But if the new styles were neither as easy, simple, nor carefree as they have often been described, why did young women so eagerly embrace these fashions? 

At the time, answers to this question were rarely articulated by the women who adopted the new styles, especially not in writing. After all, fashion is, as Mary Louise Roberts has pointed out, "something to wear, not [something] to write about," and even though journalists were fond of querying their readers about virtually any topic under the sun, they apparently never thought to ask young women to explain their enthusiasm for the new styles. But when asked several decades later, most women had an answer at hand. "It was what was fashionable back then and of course you wanted to be fashionable," said Dora Ingvardsen.

Lily Enevold gave a very similar explanation. "I guess it was just what was in style, and you know how young girls want to be stylish." Others, including Stine Petersen, explained that "for me, it wasn't really a big deal. I just wanted to look good." Had contemporaries heard such explanations, they may well have been less perturbed than most of them were. For some women, the new styles clearly had no significance beyond being the prescribed fashion. Their reason for liking the new styles was not that they permitted women new physical freedoms, and they did not associate short dresses or short hair with any kind of rebelliousness against the status quo. 

As Marie Hedegaard poignantly remarked, "I belonged to Conservative Youth, but being politically conservative had nothing to do with that. Of course, we wore short dresses, and most of the girls [who belonged to the organization] had short hair." Still, the women who recalled their stylish appearances as merely the result of fashion prescription constituted a minority. Far more frequently women gave another explanation. In general, they claimed to have liked the new styles neither for their practicality nor for their ease, but because they were a particularly effective way of displaying their difference from older generations of women and asserting a distinctively "modern" female identity. 

As Agnes Nyrop explained, "We were young and gay and full of life, and we wanted to look like that, look modern." Voicing the same sentiment, Louise Ege explained, "Those dresses did not just make you look stylish, they made you look modern." "Having short skirts and short dresses, that was part of being modern," added Gertrud 0st. "It made you feel free and young and modern. Stylish, you know, glamorous, and that was what we wanted," according to Amanda Christensen. Whether or not the new styles were in fact easier, more practical, and more convenient, this was obviously not the only factor in determining these women's fashion choices. 

The fact that the new styles set young women visually apart from an older generations whose confining lives they did not care to emulate was at least as important. As Thora Smed recalled, "My mother, she never had a moment of ease in her life. It was always toil and moil for her. I think most of us dreamed of a life that would not be like that." For her, and for many other women who were young in the 1920s, sporting the new fashionable styles was simultaneously an expression of this desire and part of its fulfillment. In her words, "We wanted something more, something better, and I guess [wearing fashionable clothes] was in a way part of that."

Simply wearing the new fashions certainly seemed to provide many women with a sense of glamour and style that lifted their existence into a "modern" realm of luxury, pleasure, and indulgence unfamiliar to most of their mothers. As a result, even the stringent requirements for slenderness and the laborious aspects of other forms of beauty care seemed well worth the effort. In fact, engaging in such beauty care was in itself a privilege that many young women treasured. "I have to admit that [we] spent a lot of time on looking good," confided Vera Thorsen. "But it was fun. Trying different things, trying this and that. No, it was fun."

But the new fashionable styles did not only play a role on the individual level. They also signaled young women's collective embrace of a new identity as "modern" women and their commitment to creating a life for themselves that would be "modern" in a much broader sense. Ingrid Kristensen's answer to the question of why she liked the new styles was therefore less a non sequitur than it first appeared. After a brief pause, she explained that "young girls had a lot in common back then. We wanted something different." After yet another pause, she added pensively, "I think that was why we liked [the new fashionable styles]. It was like— like that was what you let people know when you looked like that."

Clearly, then, young women did not consider the new styles emancipatory in and of themselves. Still, to dismiss the women who wore them as merely clothes horses and fashion plates would be mistaken. Their pursuit of the modern look may have been informed by mass-produced images of female glamour and style, and the acquisition of a fashionable appearance unquestionable tied young women into elaborate patterns of consumption and individual beauty care. 

But to the extent that the new styles provided young women with an individual and collective identity as "modern" women, fashion and appearance were part of young women's rebellion against the past. While they did not define themselves as feminists in any way, they were certainly not willing to accept the restricted, joyless lives they believed their mothers and grandmothers to have lived, and in their own understanding, this was exactly what they signaled through their adoption of the new fashions.”

- Birgitte Soland, “The Emergence of the Modern Look.” in Becoming Modern: Young Women and the Reconstruction of Womanhood in the 1920s

[radiosandrecordings]

Ace fic request if ya feel: Jmart taking a bath together at Upton, w some nonsexual nudity/intimacy? Thank u!!

“Ahaha, I’ll ask for some ace fic prompts and do drabbles for it!” I said, naively. 3K words later. Thank you Gwyn for reading over this and fixing my typos because it is. now coming up to 5am because I decided to write 3K in one sitting

CWs for talk of nudity but no one ever gets full nakey. Jon also has a brief panic about not being able to protect Martin without the Eye.

Ao3 version too 

They’d probably been awake for an hour or so by the time the feeling of grime coating his skin became intolerable. 

It felt wrong, really, the juxtaposition of the soft, clean cotton under his head and the greasy knots his hair had woven itself into over the course of their journey. Like it was insulting to the pillow, the case of which, Jon guessed absently, was worth more than his entire bed back in his flat, if it was still standing.

And wasn’t that something? To have to guess that and not just be aware. As it normally was, the Beholding would inform him that that wasn’t quite true, as while the sheets on this bed were certainly nice they were more chosen for display purposes than with the intent of anyone truly sleeping in them. The house was a museum. The curators had not supposed upon the current scenario. 

The current scenario being that there were two men lying in it, half asleep, lying still and just staring at each other with an eye-watering fondness. They had spoken, when they first awoke. Got out all the words they wanted to say. The “Where are we” and the “How long were we asleep?” and the “Is it finally safe to rest?” and the “I love you so, so much.” 

Now the thing to break the silence was the sound of Martin’s stomach making its discontent known. This, of course, sent them both into peals of laughter, because when was the last time they’d felt mundane hunger? 

“Do you think they even have food here?” Martin asks, still buried up to his neck in duvet. 

“Perhaps? Salesa surely has to eat, if we do.” 

“Yeah, but Annabelle though,” Martin chews his lip in mock contemplation. “What if we go downstairs and open up all the cupboards and it’s just… Flies as far as the eye can see, all wrapped up for eating. There’s one in the fridge all done up on a platter like a Christmas ham. Cloves spiked into it and all.” 

Jon winces. “I’d really rather not picture that right now, if you don’t mind.”

“Ah, course,” Martin says, looking slightly sheepish as they lapse into silence again. “Should probably go check though. Don’t exactly want to have gotten through all that just to starve. Though I’d happily let this be my death bed, honestly. Don’t think I’ve slept that well in… Ever.” 

“Mmh, now that you mention it, I’m quite peckish as well… Odd, that. Had almost forgotten what it felt like.” Jon heaves himself into a sitting position, and takes stock of the door to his left. “Probably the bathroom. Ensuite. Very nice.” 

“You want to get cleaned up before we go scavenging?” Martin asks, prying the duvet away like he’s pulling teeth. Jon feels bad that they can’t just stay in bed all day. He hadn’t been able to sleep, in the safe house, but Martin had chosen to dream. He might be biased, but Jon figures that that was probably worse. Martin seemed now to be relishing the opportunity to relax.

“I think we rather need it. Not keen to embarrass ourselves in front of our hosts a second time, so I’d rather not appear downstairs looking like something the cat dragged in.” Jon shoves the duvet away and gets, somewhat shakily, to his feet. Damn. No Beholding means the pain from- Where- The wound… His leg hurts. It means his leg hurts something fierce. He hopes he can stand in the shower. 

When he makes his way over to the door and swings it open, it turns out not to be a concern. The bathroom, in the fashion of the rest of the house, has no shower. Instead, a comically beautiful bathtub sits against the opposing wall. It’s a clawfoot, gold varnish painted over its feet where porcelain turns to antique wood. 

“You want to go first then?” Martin asks, slowly pulling the duvet around himself again. 

Jon rolls his eyes. “Yes, I’ll go on ahead. You enjoy the extra time.” 

Martin gives him a smug look and burrows down again. God, Jon really, really loves him. Which is why, when he puts his hand on the door handle to close it behind him, he freezes. 

Statement readings aside, this will be the first time Martin has been out of his sight in… However you choose to categorize the indefinite amount of time they spent roaming the hellscape. And even then, Jon had his powers. If anything threatened Martin he’d be there to help him. To save him. The Eye offers no such comfort now. Jon doesn’t want to close the door. He doesn’t want Martin out of his line of sight. Not with Annabelle here. He won't leave him alone, not now. 

“... Jon? You okay?”

Jon realises he’s been standing in the doorway for at least a minute now, hand frozen in indecision. He blinks a few times, trying to bring his eyes back into focus. He opens his mouth, and finds himself gaping slightly, looking for the words. 

Martin shifts, sitting back up again. “Jon, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

It comes out like a croak. “I- I don’t Know.”

Martin’s tone is gentle, placating, two hands gently offered out in Jon’s direction. “You don’t know what’s wrong?”

“No, I don’t Know,” he can feel tears beading at the corners of his eyes and tries to push down the lump in his throat. He’s gone this long without crying, why does he have to go and do it now, ruin the peaceful moment that he’d watch Martin lapse into like a drowning man with air. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Martin hushes, sliding out of bed and walking round from his side. He brings his arms around Jon and just lets them stay there, not pulling him against his chest in a restrictive grasp, but just laying his hands against his back, letting him know he’s there. 

Despite his best attempts, Jon lets out a hiccup. “And- And that should be a good thing. It should. I don’t want to Know. But it’s… I’ve spent so long with this constant presence at the back of my skull and now it feels… It’s raw and it’s vulnerable. Annabelle Cane could be a wall away and I’m vulnerable and that means you are too. If I’m in another room, I can’t Know if something is wrong, and more importantly, if something does go wrong I can’t save you.”

The right wrapped around to hold Jon’s left hip, Martin’s free hand has been tracing soothing patterns into his back through his shirt. It stills when Jon finishes. He takes a moment, before breathing out heavily through his nose. He leans back slightly so he can look down and match eye levels. 

“Jon,” he says, and his voice is as soft as that duvet felt. “I can’t imagine what that’s like. I’m so sorry. I thought being free of the Eye would be a good thing, I didn’t even consider how it would feel for you. I can’t promise nothing will go wrong, because… Well, our track record speaks for itself. But I can try and ease your fears.” He brushes Jon’s fringe out of the way, and presses a quick kiss to his forehead. “Tub seems pretty big. How do you feel about taking a bath together?” 

Jon feels his face, flushed from tears, pale. And oh what a relief, to feel a fear so comparatively… Mundane. To not be afraid of the cosmic monstrosity in the back of your brain, or the spiders with motives that scuttle across the ceiling, or the fact that you are responsible for the suffering of billions. Oh to be afraid of… Intimacy. 

Martin must feel him tense, because the hand on his back drops away, and the one at his hip loosens its grip. “I’m sorry, if that’s too much, we can just-”

“No,” Jon cuts him off, and is surprised at his own voice. “No, I… I would like that. That sounds nice.”

He knows it’s from his earlier anxieties, but Martin must still be able to feel Jon trembling slightly under his hand, because he continues to give Jon a sceptical look. 

“Forgive me for being blunt, but you really don’t seem up for that. If that’s not in your… Intimacy wheelhouse, I get it.” 

“I’m just a little shaken, is all,” Jon says, but he knows there’s a truth to Martin’s words. He knows Martin respects him and his orientation, they’d had long discussions about it in the safe house, about boundaries and desires and how Jon wanted to spend his days glued to Martin’s side but he under no circumstances wished to have sex with him. He knows that this isn’t what that is, that Martin means it in the most innocent fashion imaginable, but there’s still something about the idea of close, physical proximity while naked that makes the hairs on his arm stand on end and his stomach churn. 

It’s not that he was bashful about it. He’d seen Martin naked before, gotten changed in the same room most mornings and evenings in the safe house, but that was just a symptom of existing in the same space, never something actively done with the intent to exhibit. It had, predictably, stirred no feelings in him. The idea of them so close while not clothed… No, that wouldn’t be happening. 

“I- Can I make one request, though?” Jon asks, tilting his no longer watery eyes up to meet Martin’s. 

“Anything,” Martin replies, no hesitation to be found. 

Jon feels his face flush again, and the rapid pooling and draining of blood from his face must be doing terrible things to his circulation. “Can- Can we keep our underwear on? Please? God, sorry, that must sound horribly childish-” 

“No, no that’s okay. Whatever you need to feel comfortable,” Martin says and his voice is not so much laced with sincerity as built from bricks of it. 

They break apart and Martin ambles through the doorway and over to the bath, turning the water on. It sputters, clearly struggling after years of disuse, but after a few seconds it flows clear. Martin waits for the brackish residue to be cleaned away before popping the plug into place.

Jon preoccupies himself with looking over the shelves. They were well stocked, likely by Salesa, as Jon has a hard time believing that plastic bottles full of opalescent purple liquid were considered period appropriate set dressing. He pops the lid open on one and is met by a strong whiff of lavender. He tucks it under his arm before swiping a shampoo and matching conditioner. 

“Find something you like?” Martin asks, leaning against the edge of the tub. Jon hums a response before joining him. The tub was filling up quickly now, almost half way full and the water is pleasantly warm when he drags his fingers through it. Jon deposits two of the bottles where they can be grabbed when needed, before taking the lavender body wash and drawing swirls into the water until a layer of foam and bubbles begin to build on the surface. 

When Jon turns back to face Martin, his fingers are twitching at the hem of his t-shirt. Whoever was responsible for transferring them from cold marble floor to warm bed had also seen to it that their shoes were removed, as well as their bags and coats, which Jon had seen folded and placed over a chair in the corner of the bedroom. They were both down to their now ripped, muddied and bloodied trousers, and two v-neck t-shirts from the same set, Jon’s of which was tucked into his jeans to disguise the fact that it was several sizes too large. What possible conclusion could be drawn from that?

Martin cleared his throat. “Do you mind, then, if I…?”

“Yes, of course, go ahead.” 

Martin pulled his shirt over his head. 

It’s not that Jon didn’t find him attractive. He did, very much so, just in the romantic sense. So seeing Martin shirtless was similar to seeing him in a particularly flattering outfit. It didn’t change the way he felt about him, just intensified it. He was very handsome and Jon enjoyed getting to look at him. 

He pulls his own shirt over his head, before turning back to trail his hands through the water again, trying to gage the temperature and encourage more bubbles. When he turns back to face Martin again, he’s fiddling with his belt, eventually getting it undone and letting his trousers drop. Jon does the same. And then nothing more happens, and Jon breathes a sigh of relief. It’s not that he hadn’t trusted Martin to keep his word and not fully strip on him, it was just.. It was a relief. 

“Shall we?” Martin asks, gesturing towards the water. 

“Let’s,” Jon responds, hooking one leg over the edge before stepping fully into the bath, and letting himself sink below the water. 

He’s just about acclimated when suddenly the water is rising slightly as Martin joins him, placing himself at the other end of the tub. There’s not enough room for his legs, so he ends up with his knees close to his chest, sticking out of the water. Jon’s just about fit, stretching down to the other end of the bath and bracketing each side of Martin’s hips. 

If the bed was heaven, this is absolutely blissful. The warm water surrounds his aching joints, slowly massaging them as it laps around him. The water, just seconds earlier clean and pure, is already starting to take on a stale quality as the dirt begins to slough off of the two of them, but Jon can’t bring himself to care for relief that it’s no longer coating his skin. He thinks the lavender may have been a bad choice, because between it and the warmth he’s finding it hard not to fall asleep again. 

“This okay?” Martin asks, because he’s still worried about Jon and his comfort and that makes his heart ache with affection, that someone would care that much about him and his boundaries. 

“Far more than okay,” he responds, dragging one hand down the other arm in an attempt to get some stubborn filth off. Martin is doing the same, except he’s wisely taken a sponge from somewhere and is scrubbing at a spot on his ankle where his trouser and boot hadn’t quite met and the Buried had decided to leave a crusted circle in its wake. 

They sit in silence for quite a while, each taking care of their own needs before Jon reaches one arm out of the bath to make a swipe at the bottle of shampoo. 

“Here, let me,” Martin says, breaking the quiet. He shifts forward slightly, on instinct, before pausing and rocking back slightly. “If you want, that is. Do you?” 

“Do I what?” 

“Do you want me to do your hair? It’s just- It’s probably easier, y’know, than you trying to do it yourself.” 

“And far more romantic,” Jon adds, smiling as he leans over to press a kiss to Martin’s freshly cleaned cheek. 

“That too. Do you want to turn around?” 

Jon answers wordlessly by shifting until he’s facing away from Martin. He’s surprised, but not unpleasantly so, when Martin’s arms wrap around him and gently pull him backwards until his back is just shy of flush with Martin’s chest. It’s very intimate. It’s very nice. 

“That okay?” Martin asks again, and more than ‘I love you’, that’s a phrase Jon will never grow tired of hearing because it means Martin truly cares for his comfort. 

“Absolutely.” 

“Good,” Martin says, as he uncaps the shampoo and pours a small puddle of it into his hands. Even turned away, Jon can smell the wafts of artificial apple scenting in the stuff. 

When Martin starts to gently drag his fingers against Jon’s scalp, he can feel himself almost melt under the touch. His spine loses all tension and he lets himself fall back entirely against Martin’s chest, and it’s only the knowledge that he needs to keep still for Martin to actually do his job that stops him from turning and burrowing his face there. 

“I really hope that was a positive thing and you haven’t just fainted on me. Like, literally on me,” Martin says from behind him and this close, pressed up against him Jon can feel it reverberating in Martin’s chest. 

“Still conscious, don’t worry. That’s just… Very nice.” 

“Oh! Well… Good.” 

This continues for a few minutes, Martin slowly making his way from the scalp down to the roots of Jon’s hair, untangling it with his fingers and then repeating the process with the conditioner until his hair ran smooth under Martin’s hands. Even when Jon knows he’s long finished any actual hair care, Martin continues to run his fingers through the hair, just because. Jon loved him for it.

Eventually, both of Martin’s hands come to rest against Jon’s torso. “This okay?” 

“Yes. I don’t mind any of the touching, as long as it’s… Nowhere previously established to be out of bounds.” 

“Gotcha,” Martin says, pressing a kiss to Jon’s shoulder that makes his brain fizzle like fireworks. 

It takes Jon a minute to fully realise what Martin is doing. Two hands trace lines along his ribcage, one on each side, thumbs gently drawing and redrawing a pattern. His scars. 

Then, the hands travel upwards. Again, two lines along his chest, traced with as much tender care, and Jon’s brain has gone a little fuzzy. He’s unused to such casual touching. There is nothing hurried about it, no urgency, no purpose other than to make him feel good. To make him feel loved and cherished, and if he’s being honest, it’s working. No ulterior motive. This isn’t the lead up to anything. It just exists on it’s own as an experience he gets to have without worrying about what comes after, because he knows the answer is nothing. 

After, Martin shifts slightly, leaning forward. One hand cups Jon’s elbow, raising that arm out of the water as one by one, from shoulder to palm, Martin makes his way down pressing a soft kiss to each and every circular scar. He repeats the process with the other arm. As if to finish it off, he presses a slow, soft, close mouthed kiss to the line that stretches across the front of Jon’s neck.

He’s perfect. Martin Blackwood is perfect and Jon doesn’t know what he did to deserve… This. This quiet barrage of love, the consideration and care poured into it something Jon never thought he would be worthy of, let alone have become a reality.

Jon twists to lie sideways, pressed against Martin with his head tucked under Martin’s chin. Martin’s knees bracket his shoulders on either side and he feels safe. He is in the eye of the storm, a brief respite from the dreadful horrors that ravage the world outside their bubble, but with Martin Blackwood he is safe.

[eyeless-cunt]

Ej being w a sexual shy reader

prompt 9 (?)

I mashed all of these prompts together into one— I thot they would fit 😳 (however it’s a lil different uwu)

also i listened to ego death by Mieke while writing this it goes with it WELL, so you should listen to it >:)) ON LOOP

🔪————————————————————————🌸

Summary: Y/N is alone and not fine with it. Ej is alone but fine with it. They mix. Ej remembers that his love is not immortal like him.

Word count: 3.3k

NSFW: u h. yes. It’s pretty mild tho and very VERY soft

Warnings: mild depression, grief, loss of a loved one, EXTREME FLUFFY NSFW, mentions of eating humans, mentions of reader death, slight angst, very fluffy, ej loves reader very much

Tag List: @jouchann

🌸————————————————🔪

Y/n was always shy. She grew up quiet, she lacked presence. She never raised her hand—nor her voice. She was talked over and trampled on. She grew up with loving yet quickly fading grandparents. They tried to give her attention but the life was draining out of them and quite frankly they wanted to spend their last years in the arms of their loving spouse. She didn’t mind, she figured she would rather spend all of her remaining time with her significant other as well. Although she had always figured that something like that was nowhere close to her in the near future. Or further future to be honest. She was too shy and small in character to make a lasting impact on anyone, after all.

Falling in love with an immortal demon wasn’t something shy girls did. Outgoing girls did that, spontaneous and loud and adventurous. Those were the type of girls to experience this. Confident and sure of themselves. Shy girls met someone in a library, in a coffee shop, maybe on a park bench. Not in the woods at four a.m. sobbing about their grandparents death.

It was cold and dark and wet. Her face was wet from tears and wet from rain, her fingertips and lips were red and freezing, ready to burst. She couldn’t go back inside. Not yet, not now. It had been a week since their death, her grandpa dying of simply old age, her grandmother fading one hour after digesting the news and coming to terms with it. Her heart was simply too broken. Instantaneous heart failure. They left her everything. The car, the house, the money, the cat— their belongings. She didn’t want any of it right now. She had no other family, no close friends. She was simply not the type to make a lasting impact on someone.

She didn’t want to go back to that house. She didn’t want to see their things laying around, now her things. They were all she had, how was she supposed to go on, being alone? She hated being alone and lonely and alone. If anything, the woods behind her house was almost comforting. The feeling of being watched, which usually would give someone chills and paranoia—helped. She wasn’t alone, she would walk into that house and her grandparents would wave hello at her, they would be holding hands from their separate but close recliners, watching whatever new show they found interesting at the moment.

Obviously, that wouldn’t happen. But she still thought it, hoped. Which was why she couldn’t go back inside. It would make it too real, they wouldn’t be there, she would be truly alone. As long as she didn’t go inside to see for herself, they might be still sitting inside, waiting for her. So she couldn’t go inside, or they wouldn’t be there anymore.

It was colder then before, even though the rain had stopped. The grass was starting to freeze, the sun had gone down more than two hours ago. She sat still against a tree trunk, holding her knees to her chest. She was tired, it was cold out here. She didn’t know if her fingers were still red or if they had turned blue. She didn’t have enough energy to check. Animals scurried around her, as if they knew she wouldn’t do them any harm. They knew she was incapable, so they ignored her and roamed around freely.

Her eyes were closing and opening, closing and opening, over and over and over again. Her head swayed, but she fought to stay up. Would her grandparents still be there if she fell asleep? She didn’t know, so she fought to stay awake. Her body won over her mind however, and soon her body slumped over as she hit the ground, her arms still curled into herself.

🔪Eyeless’s P.O.V🔪

I felt kinda bad. I mean, this girl was just sitting in my woods crying while it was raining. Watching her felt like an invasion of privacy...but then again she was in my woods. It was only fair that I watch her to make sure she didn’t get into any trouble. How did she even get in? It seems that tall prick needs to up his game.

I was patient. I had lived a very long time, I had an endless amount of time to do whatever I wanted. I knew that waiting for someone or something meant nothing. However I did worry about her time. How long had it been? I figured pretty long when she slumped over onto the icy grass, sound asleep. Humans felt temperature, didn’t they? She would get hypothermia if this continued. I had already eaten. I wasn’t hungry. Being feral every once in a while really made you full as hell for a few weeks. The thought of more food grossed me out considering I had eaten so much. She was safe, for now. If she ever came in my woods again however, I wouldn’t be too sure.

So in a moment of rare kindness for something like me, I dropped down from my tree and crouched to get a good look at her. Was she a run-away? She looked young but...I sifted through her pockets. An old tattered wallet. She had a driver’s license, not that much else. Then again I didn’t really look, just wanted to find an ID of some sort. She was an adult. So homeless? No. She didn’t look it. So just having a mental breakdown? probably. I picked her up, and felt the cold in her skin. It didn’t affect me but it certainly made me worried-ish for her.

I didn’t know where to take her. Where did she live, where did she come from? I couldn’t just take her with me, could I? No, definitely not. She would scream and argue and thrash as soon as she saw me. Well, I guess I could just say I was a cosplayer. Of some...random obscure villian or something. If she didn’t believe it and thrashed and screamed then I would just kill her. Easy. Take her home, warm her up, take her back to her home, done and easy. I hadn’t done something this kind for someone I considered my food in a very long time.

I adjusted her in my arms, trying not to press on her her or hold her too tight. Trying to hold back strength was not something I had done in an even longer time, and I was not used to it. I’m not sure how long it took to get there, but halfway I noticed the blue of her lips. I took off my sweatshirt and pulled it on over her head, not bothering to stick her arms through. She would retain more heat that way anyways. I’m not sure if i’m warm or cold, so it was a gamble to hold her closer to my chest. I did so anyways and started to jog, wanting to get there before she died.

When we got there I immediately turned on the heat. My house had many functions I didn’t use, although it seemed they finally had a use. I closed all the windows and doors, and grabbed a few blankets the previous (now long dead—like over 100 years dead) home owners had owned and kept in a spare closet. I laid her on the couch, although I wondered if my bed would work better for retaining heat. I figured there was no difference and kept her there, laying blankets on her. She would probably need a warm bath, but I figured she wouldn’t want me to stick her in there for fear of her wet clothes. I didn’t see an issue with undressing her but I vaguely recalled a moment when I walked in on Jane showering. I didn’t see an issue, she hit me with every bottle in there.

I wasn’t sure of what else I could do for her, so I ended up sitting in front of her on the couch. It was a few hours before she woke up, but I was patient. I have time. I wondered if I would have to kill her or not. I wouldn’t want to eat her, so it would be a waste.

🔪Third person P.O.V🌸

She had a short dream. Grey skin, navy blue, hot tar leaking out of holes in the wall, screaming. A lot of fire and singing. Then she didn’t dream at all. When she woke up, she was surprisingly comfortable. Her back hurt a little, and was a little cold, her hands were a bit numb, and she was sleeping on a soft yet bumpy surface. She liked being wrapped in these blankets, but she couldn’t seem to free her hands. They were trapped in something and she was far too weak to move them very much. He was surprisingly amused. She didn’t seem to know what was restricting her arms, and she didn’t seem all too panicked.

He thought her look of frustration was funny. They made eye contact. Kinda. They talked, although they don’t really remember what about. It took a long time, they weren’t sure how long, but eventually they entered a mutual relationship. Falling in love with immortal demons wasn’t something shy girls did.

Yet here she was. Her head in the lap of an immortal demon who she was in fact in love with. She never did end up going into that house, she tried. She tried and tried but the thought of her grandparents not being there when she walked in always stopped her. She always somehow found her way back to Jack’s house. Over and over and over and over again. Somehow she found her way into his lap. He absentmindedly played with her hair, not sure of what was happening on the Tv. He only installed it because she was always bored when he was gone. He didn’t mind the noise, as long as it wasn’t too loud.

He wasn’t sure how long it had been since he had last gone ‘feral’. It seemed crude to call it that, but technically that’s what he did. He planned on never getting into that state as long as Y/N was alive. Or at least around him. He hadn’t eaten in a week. He grimaced, knowing his last helping shouldn’t even of lasted him this long. He needed to go. He needed to hunt. But she seemed so content in his lap, and he knew he wouldn’t turn for at least another week if this continued. He had time. He could let her stay like this. She yawned, and looked up at him, smiling sweetly. He was sure he could feel his chest warm up his entire body.

She sat up and turned to lift up his mask, pecking him lightly on the cheek and giving another sweet smile. He never thought of humans as sweet creatures. But the woman in his lap was very sweet. Sweeter than any human he’d ever killed and tasted. Sweeter than the sugar water BEN had forced down his throat once. She was soft and quiet, until she opened her mouth. She had a lot to say then. He had time. He could listen. He could be patient. He would always be patient with her.

He wasn’t so sure how patient he’d be if he went feral. But swiped that thought out of his head. He wouldn’t go feral. He would hunt tomorrow—that’s what he decided. Sure she’d be by herself for a day or two but she knew the drill. He’d feel a bit bad as she clung to him, hopping he wouldn’t leave. A little guilty as he walked away from her as she held back tears. But she knew the drill.

He sometimes forgot that she didn’t have as much time as him. Forgot that one day she would leave this world and her human body would rot and decay into nothingness. She wouldn’t be sweet anymore. She’d be bones that he’d bury under a tree or some shit. He would pass her grave in a thousand years and he might not remember her voice by then. That thought sent him spiraling.

She would die. She was human. One day her life would end. The thought of him forgetting her voice, the way her kisses taste so sweet, the feel of her hands in his hair as a tv he didn’t give two fucks about droned on in the background. He didn’t want to forget. He never wanted to forget how warm her body was, the only temperature he’d ever actually felt. The only thing he’d ever actually love.

He didn’t want to leave her anymore. He hated leaving her. He’s never loathed anything more than being apart from her and knowing that while he was away, she was aging. She would grow old. Her bones would become brittle, and her eyesight would leave her. He would lose her and have to bury her in the ground. Cover her in dirt while bugs chewed at her corpse.

But he had to go. Or he would lose her even earlier, to himself. That would be unbearable. He would never be able to live thousands of more years peacefully if that happened. He might get over it, after how long. That made him hate himself. He looked down at her, her eyes trained to the Tv ahead of them. He leaned down to kiss her forehead, and when he pulled back she pushed foreward and caught him by the mouth. He couldn’t help but think about how sweet she was.

She pushed him back even farther, and he let her. Her hands pulled him closer, as close as he could get. She would never get enough of him, of how soft he was. His skin was soft, and so was his mouth. She was sure he’d never picked at the skin there like she had. A bad habit that made her lips bleed and harden. It made her self conscious, but Jack never seemed to mind. She was glad. She wasn’t expecting him to pull away and pull off his shirt. Sure, they’d gotten showers together and all that, but that wasn’t an action with sexual intent behind it. They’d never gotten that far. She assumed he never wanted it, or that she wasn’t desirable. Or maybe demon-like creatures like him just weren’t into things like that.

Him pulling her into his lap seemed to tell her otherwise. She wasn’t sure what to do with her hands. Her mind was a mess. Were they about to have sex? Did he want it? Did she want it? Of couse she did. But did he? Her hands shook, so she gripped his arms, a bit embarrassingly. He probably noticed. He kissed her forehead, sweetly.

“Do you want to?”

She practically gulped. She was incredibly nervous, and her anxiety kept reaching new heights. She’d never even kissed someone before Jack came into her life. She had never been close enough to a person before. This went from 0-100 in minutes. She nodded anyways, but he didn’t seem to believe her.

“Are you sure? You look pale. We don’t have to. We can just go back to cuddling and watching Tv. Okay?”

“No, i’m just nervous. I’ve never done any of this.”

“That’s okay. I don’t think I have either.”

“You don’t think?”

“I don’t remember much of my human life. I might’ve, but who knows?”

That made her laugh a little, even though it was a bit sad. She felt better, but was still nervous. What if He didn’t like her body, or he was grossed out by it? When was even the last time she shaved literally anything on her body? Probably at least a week or two. She was sure he’d find that disgusting.

“We really don’t have to. Especially if you don’t want to.”

“I do want to. But I also haven’t shaved it a while.”

He wanted to laugh at that. That was her reason? He thought it was silly, but if it was serious for her then he’d try to take it seriously too.

“I don’t care about things like that.”

“I haven’t gotten a shower.”

“I don’t care about that either, but if getting a shower and whatever else would make you feel more comfortable then you can do that, obviously. But I really, really, don’t care about any of that stuff.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am positive. It seems a bit shallow to really care about something like that. And I honestly find you beautiful no matter what form to appear in. I would still love you just the same if you were covered in dog shit. I wouldn’t fuck you until you got a bath...but I would still love you.”

He felt like she needed just the right amount of love and validation from him to feel more confident, and he hoped he was making her feel better.

“I love you.”

He smiled at her and replied back with, “I love you too.”

He decided not to add ‘more’ or they would get into a full verbal war over who loved and missed who more. It was endearing to watch her fight over it so seriously, but tiring when it went on for more than thirty minutes.

He kissed her forehead again, waiting for her to make the next move. He wouldn’t do anything if she didn’t want him to something. He tried to be gentle and caring with her at all times, even if he didn’t know what he was doing. Even if it was the opposite of his nature.

She moved a bit cautiously, and he thought it was cute. Her mouth caught his, and he let her lead. He didn’t exactly know what he was doing anyways, so he figured he might as well go with it. She never sped up, so he didn’t either. She pulled off her clothes slowly, and still a bit nervously. He asked her again if she was sure. And she said yes, and kissed him harder.

He waited till she seemed more comfortable, then picked her up and carried her to the bed. The couch looked uncomfortable to her, and he didn’t want that to be a factor in her nervousness. She felt so soft, and he briefly wondered what he did to deserve this. This sweetness.

She held him closer to her, wrapping her legs against his waist. She had the quick thought that even his waist was perfect, and that that wasn’t really fair. His grey skin somehow made him even prettier, and she continued to think that through the whole night. He was gentle with her, even at the cost of his own pleasure. To him, it was worth everything and more to see her writhe under him, gripping onto him like there was no tomorrow. Her nails dug into his back, and she apologized profusely afterwards, even though he absolutely loved it.

He wanted to watch her move like that everyday for the rest of his never ending life. He only focused on her, and the faces she made. She would try to hide her face in his shoulder, or with a hand, but he always pulled it away so he could see. He kissed her everywhere, touched her everywhere, and she returned the favor, even though they really both had no idea what they were doing at first. It was endearing to watch her do her best for him, and Jack thought he’d never need anything else if only he could have her forever.

One day, she would turn to ash. But until then they would spend every moment they had together loving each other beyond comparison. He would spend his every waking moment living for her, until she would live no more.

[rocorambles]

Timeout - Part 2

Pairing: Kageyama x Reader

Genre/Warning: Yandere, Unhealthily controlling behavior, Toxic Relationships, Isolation

Summary: Kageyama just wants to take care of you, so why won’t you just behave?

Requested by Anon

Part 1

You don’t see the basement ever again and your night there fades from your mind like a bad dream as Kageyama and you fall back into a comfortable cadence together. You love him with all your heart, you truly do. You love going on jogs with him even as your legs tremble from exertion and sweat glistens your brows. You love watching his eyes light up in excitement as he sets perfectly to Ushijima and turns to you with a wide grin on his face after his team scores a point. You love watching his brows wrinkle in concentration as he takes painstaking care to cook both of you a healthy meal. But even as you smile fondly at the sleeping figure next to you and trace random designs on his rising and falling chest at night when the two of you lay in bed, there’s a slight pang in your heart as your thighs clench and you wistfully think of the last time the two of you had made love. It seems so long ago and you can’t even clearly remember the last time the two of you had even kissed. Sure, he lets you hold his calloused hands as much as you want and allows himself to be drawn into your embrace, but it’s not enough. Surely there’s nothing wrong, nothing disgusting about you wanting more physical intimacy with your long-term boyfriend that you share a home with, right? But Kageyama’s always been strict and restrained when it comes to all types of pleasure and in turn, he holds you to the same restrictions, making sure neither of you become too self-indulgent. 

You try to push it to the back of your mind, successfully laying it to rest as you enjoy the time you spend with your lover. You don’t necessarily agree with Kageyama on everything, but you know everything he says and does comes out of love and care for you and if the only penalty is less sex and a little less freedom, so be it. Every day feels like a routine and at first you fidget and itch for more, but you quickly settle into the comfortable monotony of your shared life, finding tranquility in the steady and constant flow. Which is why you’re startled to say the least when you’ve already got your bags packed, ready to tag along with Kageyama as his team travels for an away game this weekend, but Kageyama just smiles at you and tells you to put away your things. 

“You’ve been so good recently that I figured you might like some alone time to catch up and hang out with your girlfriends. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen them, right?”

Confused, but excited, you eagerly nod and Kageyama’s heart warms at the way your eyes sparkle. He’d have to thank Hinata for the idea later. Unknown to you, the two had briefly ran into each other and caught up, sharing about their relationships and he’d been surprised when Hinata had casually mentioned that his girlfriend was out of town, spending the week away with some friends and having a “girl’s trip”. He found the idea of you being away from him for so long with people he didn’t know very well unsettling, but as Hinata continued to rave about how healthy it was to have some time apart and how nice it was to have your own same gender friends to chat with, he pondered the idea more. Hinata certainly seemed happy and content with his relationship. Maybe there’s something to be said about this crazy idea after all.

But Kageyama’s not nearly as lax as Hinata and there are some rules and agreements set in place before he heads out. Be home by 10pm. Call him when you wake up and before you go to sleep. And the hard rules both of you live by still stand. No drugs. No alcohol. You can’t help but think he sounds even more strict than the summer camps you’d been to as a child and that it seems silly for a woman in her 20s to have a curfew, but your excitement at being able to hang out with all your girlfriends helps you fling those thoughts to the side as you hurriedly rush to your phone and message your friends. 

Kageyama didn’t have anything against your friends, but he was insistent on the two of you always being together in your free time, leaving little room for you see you friends in person, so your phone explodes with messages as your friends quickly eat up the opportunity to have a long overdue girls weekend with you. That Friday night, despite the fact that the bed is colder than usual and overwhelmingly large without Kageyama’s presence beside you, you fall asleep with a smile on your face, your heart warm and aflutter at the prospect of seeing your dearest friends for the first time in ages. 

The sun has barely risen, but you’re already wide awake and scouring your closet for the perfect outfit to wear, finally settling on a sweater and jeans paired with a strappy set of heels you know Kageyama disapproves of, always worried that you might twist your ankle. But today’s a special day and you know for a fact that these heels make your ass and legs look amazing. The morning flies by as you prance around the empty house to an upbeat playlist, going through your skincare routine and applying makeup for the first time in months. You usually save it for special occasions and date nights, but when Kageyama had realized how unhealthy restaurant food was, eating out became a thing of the past and the two of you mostly stayed at home becoming homebodies. Satisfied with your appearance you make your way to the restaurant your friends had chosen for brunch and after a flurry of warm hugs and giddy greetings, all of you sit down and peruse the menu. 

Your friends gleefully look over the brunch cocktails and look at you in surprise when you order a cup of coffee instead. It’s such a different choice than the college senior partier in you would have made all those years ago, but when they question you about it, you just laugh it off and tell them Kageyama doesn’t approve of drinking, so you’d cut it out of your life after the two of you started dating. A knot forms in your stomach at the concerned looks they send your way and share among each other and you try to assure them that it’s fine, completely normal couple behavior, but they aren’t having any of your excuses and the knot tightens as their interrogation continues. 

“He doesn’t let you drink at all?”

“He monitors and controls everything you eat?” 

“He times how long you sleep for every night?” 

“You guys haven’t had sex in months?” 

You slap a hand over your friend’s mouth as that scandalous question comes out louder than intended, but you bite your bottom lip as you slowly nod in response and you can feel warmth rising to your face as tears threaten to overflow from the looks of pity being directed at you. The friend whose mouth you’re still covering gently holds your hand on her face and brings it into her lap before quietly asking, “Is Kageyama also the reason we never see you anymore?” and that’s all it takes for you to quietly sob when realization hits you and you see Kageyama’s toxic control for what it is. And yet, a small part of you can’t help but defend him, and you try to reason with your friends, telling them that he doesn’t mean for any of it to be toxic, he doesn’t mean to be a control freak. He just does these things because he cares, but your words fall flat even to your own ears as you suddenly vividly remember the cold, lonely night in that basement. Your eyes narrow and you sharply wave to a nearby waiter.

“Let’s change that coffee to a mimosa.” 

You’re all successful career-oriented women and yet, all it takes is a few, okay maybe more than just a few, rounds of drinks for all of you to feel like you’re back to your senior college days and you’re having the time of your life. Your belly is aching from how hard you’re laughing and there’s a constant buzz in your body, in your soul as the alcohol takes effect and you can’t stop the loopy smile on your face. You don’t remember who was the ringleader, but all of you somehow find yourselves shopping for clubbing outfits as you get roped into a girl’s night out and as you stare at your reflection in a changing room mirror, pleased by the way the strappy number highlights your curves and barely covers your chest and ass, you briefly worry about Kageyama’s reaction to you being out so late and drinking, but you scoff, empowered by the liquid courage running within you and your re-found confidence. 

The night is a blur of shots and dancing. Your tolerance for alcohol is barely existent and you don’t remember much other than your feet aching from standing on your heels all night, being sandwiched between your girlfriends on the dance floor, and a jolt of irritation at feeling your phone continuously vibrate as Kageyama tried to reach you. Yet somehow you make it safely back home and you promptly collapse on the soft sheets, not bothering to remove your makeup, clothes, or shoes as you fall into a deep slumber.     

You wake up hours later with a groan, a raging headache pounding at your temples as the sunlight begins to filter in through the windows. You groggily sit up and attempt to get out of bed to completely shut the window blinds when you freeze as you lock gazes with cold blue eyes. Nauseous, completely sober, and still dazed from exhaustion, you tremble as Kageyama continues furiously scowling at you, unable to muster even an ounce of the courage you had yesterday.

“32 missed calls. 53 unanswered texts. And 1 response from you, finally.” 

Your heart sinks at the photo on his phone and you can only stutter incoherently at the hazy photo your friend had taken of you with a drink in your hand and the middle finger flipped at the camera. You finally try to explain that it was just a joke, that you had too much to drink, but you’re caught off by more harsh words. 

“I try to do something nice for you and what do you do? Go against the few rules I gave you and mock me to my face.”

You scramble towards him, momentarily forgetting about the heels still on your feet and you stumble to the floor as he grabs your phone and clutches it tightly in his grip. 

“Wait, Tobio. I’m sorry! Don’t take away my phone. How would I even message or call you?” 

“You don’t need to message or call me, not when I know where you are 24/7.”

And you flinch. You flinch at the sound of your phone being crushed to pieces, crushed beyond repair as his foot repeatedly stomps on it. You flinch at the look of cold indifference he pins you down with as you scream for him to stop, scream out apology after apology. You flinch at the feeling of his hand roughly grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you to the room you’d desperately tried to forget. You flinch at the biting cold of metal encasing your body as he chains you up once more. And finally you bitterly sob as he walks away from your bound body, turns off the light, and closes the door with a resounding bang, leaving you alone in the dark and isolated prison with no intention to release you anytime soon. 

[twstarchives]

Jade Leech・Voice Lines

Additional Voice Lines

Beans Camo event card

Scary Dress event card

School Uniform - R

Unlock Card “I was just preparing some tea. Why don’t you take a break?”

Groovy “I’d like to enjoy my time here on land.”

Home Setting “Pardon me.”

Home Transitions “Floyd comes to visit my classes every once in a while. He may not look like it, but he’s rather clingy.”

“History on land is quite interesting. It’s very different from the stories they tell us in the sea.”

“Clothes feel so restrictive... It’s been a while since I came on land, but I’m still not used to them.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “How coincidental it is that we meet here. ...Hm? What’s the matter? Of course it was only coincidence.”

Home Taps “My grades? Hm... I apologize, but I’m not interested in receiving any judgment from others.”

“Are you familiar with terrariums at all? Caring for miniature gardens is difficult, but I truly enjoy it.”

“Riddle is very dedicated; I respect him as a classmate. I’m not sure what he thinks about me, however.”

“I don’t particularly enjoy having attention on me. I’d say Azul is the best suited for attracting others.”

“Oh dear, you might hurt yourself if you keep acting so rash.”

PE Uniform - R

Unlock Card “I’m not keen on the idea of running around, but... I will do it if I must.”

Groovy “Let’s strive to be neither good nor bad.”

Home Setting “Now then, we must work our hardest.”

Home Transitions “What’s the matter? ...It makes it difficult to keep going when you’re watching me move so intently.”

“Initially, it was very difficult for me to run, much less stand on my feet. But I’ve gotten quite used to it now.”

“I think I’d like to eat something light before exercising. I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I tend to get hungry easily.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Keeping up your fitness is an important factor in enjoying the mountains and all of our surrounding nature. What do you say about joining me?”

Home Taps “My parents trained me in the art of self-defense starting from a young age. That’s something I’m very grateful for even today.”

“I thought we’d be cleaning the Mostro Lounge today... but it seems Floyd has run off again.”

“I picked some odd plants I found in the mountains to grow in my terrarium. I hope I raise them well.”

“I’m not the best at Flying. ...Heheh, who am I kidding? I’m not as awful as Azul.”

“Are you perhaps...? Nevermind, it’s nothing. Bravery and recklessness aren’t the same.”

Lab Coat - SR

Unlock Card “If there’s something I’m interested in, I’m going to want to thoroughly research it. I have a passion for learning.”

Groovy “If you’re curious about the Mountain Lovers Club, feel free to stop by to take a look anytime.”

Home Setting “Conducting experiments is one of my strengths. ...Do you have any questions?”

Home Transitions “Magic Potions requires intelligence, not so much magic power. As someone who has no magic, this is the perfect subject for you, don’t you think?”

“Heheh. Perhaps you should consider having a talk with Azul if you hate studying for exams this much.”

“I’m rather confident in my ability to brew potions. ‘Why,’ you ask? Who can say?”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “I was completely engrossed in a sketch I was working on, that when I snapped up, I saw everyone had already left the lab. How cold-hearted of them all.”

Home Transition (Groovy) “Would you mind telling me your preferences for the Mostro Lounge menu? I will use them as a reference.”

Home Taps “I enjoy the thrill of never knowing what’s going to happen next whenever Floyd is around. If only we were put in the same classes...”

“Heheh. Whenever I see someone heavily concentrating on something, I get the urge to start talking to them. ...Is that cruel of me?”

“Carrying out an experiment is a race against the clock. Sometimes it’s important to start taking risks and trying your hardest with them.”

“I like the Botanical Garden. ...Oh, is that a surprise? I may not seem like it, but I’m always brimming with curiosity.”

“Have you heard of the phrase, ‘Haste makes waste’? ...No, I suppose I shouldn’t even ask.”

Home Tap (Groovy) “In the Mountain Lovers Club I founded, we study the plants we pick as well. ...Oh my, are you perhaps interested?”

Ceremony Robes - SR

Unlock Card “The entrance ceremony is truly nostalgic. Have you grown accustomed to Night Raven College yourself yet?”

Groovy “I hope your time at this academy is a pleasant one.”

Home Setting “There’s so much to do on the day of the ceremony.”

Home Transitions “I’m not used to outfits with so many layers. After all, I don’t come from a race of fish with fluttering tail fins, such as the ones they keep in aquariums.”

“I enjoy observing people, however I get uncomfortable when it’s done to me. I suppose this would mean I’m shy?”

“If you have any spare rooms in the Ramshackle Dorm, how much would you charge to lend them to other students? I think I’d enjoy living somewhere with ghosts...”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “It’s nice how quiet ceremony days are. Normally everything is so wild.”

Home Transition (Groovy) “Are you nervous? I’ll brew some relaxing tea for you. It will almost put you to sleep.”

Home Taps “I was quite surprised when I learned which dorms the Mirror of Darkness had sorted us into. Although, I had thought Azul and Floyd would be in the same dorm.¹”

“Floyd caused a bit of an uproar during our entrance ceremony as well. Just like you and Grim. Heheh.”

“The custom humans have of changing their clothes depending on the circumstance is very interesting. It’s similar to fish who change the color of their scales to blend in with their surroundings.”

“I often lose track of time while gazing at the stars. I’m not necessarily into astrology, I just find them interesting.”

“Heheh, that isn’t very nice of you. Please don’t mock me.”

Home Tap (Groovy) “Are you familiar with the history of Night Raven College? These ceremony robes have a greater impact on you once you know.”

Dorm Uniform - SSR

Unlock Card “There’s no need to worry; I only want to help you.”

“Heheh... I’m truly honored you called for me. There is something I could do to make all your wishes come true.”

Groovy “I will take care of any requests you may have. Please don’t worry; I’m very familiar with self-indulgences.”

Home Setting “I will show you around Octavinelle any time you wish.”

Home Transitions “I’m employed as a waiter at the Mostro Lounge. I’ll strive to receive you with the utmost hospitality.”

“Should you ever find that something is troubling you, I recommend paying a visit to Azul. He could make any wish come true. Heheh.”

“Merfolk must be prepared for all sorts of problems when living on land. This lifestyle is so terribly different.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “It must be fate that I ran into you like this. Would you care for a spot of tea? I will prepare some.”

Home Transition (Groovy) “Azul would do anything to achieve his goals... That is to say, he truly works his hardest. It’s easy not to perceive him as such, though.”

Home Taps “Pay what you owe. Even a baby fish should understand this, but every once in a while I run into some unreasonable people.”

“Contrary to what some may think, I’m not exactly interested in earning money. I simply enjoy anything that entertains me.”

“We may not have enough legs to say ‘Just like the Sea Witch’s,’ however the deep, glossy black of our dorm uniforms certainly gives off the impression of her hidden power.”

“Floyd always whines ‘I hate it so tight!’ and undoes his bowtie. I keep tying it for him, but it always ends the same way.”

“This will certainly cost you a heavy price. ...Only joking. I would never say that. Yes, ‘I’ wouldn’t.”

Home Tap (Groovy) “I always welcome the unknown. Please, I encourage you to play an even more active role in everything.”

Duo Magic Jade: May I ask that you entrust me with this today, Floyd? Floyd: ‘Kay~ Jade. What’re you going to do~?

Birthday Celebration Outfit - SSR

This card was only obtainable during Jade and Floyd’s birthday event (Nov 04 - Nov 11, 2020).

Login on Birthday “Welcome to our birthday party. I’m certain Floyd will be very happy to know you’ve arrived. Now, I’ve prepared some food. Heheh, there’s no need to be shy. I’m simply doing as I please.”

Unlock Card “I’m looking forward to seeing how you’ll receive me as a guest.”

“What day is it today? Let’s see, what is it...? Only kidding. I know. Floyd and I have our birthday today.”

Groovy “I’m very pleased you came to celebrate for me. You have my sincerest gratitude.”

Home Setting “So this is the outfit we have to wear today... I will try to pull it off.”

Home Transitions “Azul gave me a large aquarium for my birthday. No, it isn’t for me to swim in. I’m using it for my terrariums.”

“Simply watching everyone put together this party didn’t sit well with me, so I contributed one dish. Do you know which one?”

“It’s surprising that I eat so much? I hear that a lot. But it’s because of that that I’ve grown this tall.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “I enjoy parties. They allow you to hear many unusual stories from those who always have dynamic surroundings.”

Home Transition (Groovy) “Should I pour some tea? ...The star of the day shouldn’t be the one doing that. Well, let’s just say it’s my thank-you for coming to celebrate.”

Home Taps “Ruggie gave me two wild plant recipes for my birthday. I believe I still know how to cook them... I’m very curious.”

“Our parents ask us what we want for our birthday every year, but Floyd and I have never asked for the same thing. Even twins have different tastes.”

“I received special tea leaves blended by Vil himself. The flavor is phenomenal; you can tell it’s a high-class product.”

“What do I want for my birthday? ...Art supplies. Lately, I haven’t just been collecting fruits and herbs from the mountains; I’ve started working on field sketches as well.”

“How playful you are to fire a party cracker without warning me first. It’s only right if I return a surprise to you... isn’t it?”

Home Tap (Groovy) “Hm? What was it you just said? Could you repeat that one more time? Only joking. I just wanted to hear you wish me a happy birthday over and over.”

Duo Magic Jade: Oh, you came to wish me a happy birthday as well, Jack? Jack: Yeah! Happy birthday, Jade!

Tutorial “May I ask what your plans are for today? Wherever you go, I shall accompany you.”

Lv Up “Oh my, you seem to have taken a fancy to me.”

“My apologies. I’ll strive to live up to your expectations.”

“Heheh. This feels rather nice.”

Lv Up Max “Brimming with all of this power... I am shocked to say the least. Heheh, it’s certainly not a bad feeling.”

Episode Lv Up “How strange. At first, I thought you were nothing but a drab human, but... Ah, don’t get mad at me. My impression of you has changed since then.”

Magic Lv Up “Magic on land is so interesting. I absolutely want to try it out.”

Limit Break “How very kind of you to have gone this far for me. I will do my best to live up to your expectations.”

Groovy “I seem to have gotten ahead of myself and acted rather unsightly. Heheh.”

Lesson Select “Please, choose any class you like. I will join you if I’m interested.”

“Trust that I will aid you in any of your classes. I am always prepared for anything.”

“Would you like me to choose my most recommended class for you? As you can’t make up your mind.”

Lesson Start “Let’s enjoy ourselves again today.”

Lesson End “Good work everyone. Let’s do our best next time.”

Battle Start “Please don’t be too rough.”

Battle Win “I had hoped I could keep having fun with this... Oh well.”

Other

Profile Quote “It’s your own fault that you didn’t fulfill the contract you signed.”

January 2020 Trailer “If you ever have any problems, then we will help you.”

Countdown Poster “If you’d like all your dreams to come true, then come here.”

Login Bonus Greeting “Since you work so hard, I’ve prepared a gift for you. I won’t request any compensation for it. Please, go ahead and accept it.”

Player Birthday Wish “Happy birthday. This isn’t much, but here is a present from me. Oh! But don’t open it here. That wouldn’t be fun at all. You must do it in secret, when you’re all alone... Understood?”

[junghosunshine]

Shut In

pairing: Kim Taehyung X reader

word count: 4k+

summary: Without a place to stay after you are kicked out of your dorm amidst the Coronavirus outbreak, you have no choice but to stay with Kim Taehyung (the son of one of your moms friends whom you have never met). You worry that it will be awkward but you are pleasantly surprised by the bond you end up forming with the overly welcoming man.

warnings: Smut, Fluff, overprotective, slightly dom!tae, mentions of covid19 and quarantine, age gap (5 years), unprotected sex (please use protection guys) 

notes: This was written to calm me down while being stuck in my house in no way am I trying to offend anyone. Please go easy on me i’m sensitive :)

_______________________________________________________________________

You should probably be thankful that you have somewhere to stay during quarantine but at this particular moment you were dreading the next few weeks.

“Mom, why can’t I just stay in a hotel?” You asked over the phone. You knew you were being irrational and that this was much better than paying a hundred dollars a night (even if you would feel much more comfortable). Ever since your classes had been canceled, you had been living in the dorms at your college but they had begun to kick students out. Going to school overseas seemed like such a fun idea, and it probably would have been, but because you were in another country during the corona virus outbreak, there was no way you could get home especially with the travel restrictions. You had called your mom sobbing, worried that you would be homeless through the pandemic in a country you barely knew. Luckily, within an hour your mom had reached out to one of her friends who had a son living in Seoul and you suddenly had a place to stay. “Mom, that is going to be so weird. I don’t know him and now I’m going to live with him. Alone. For who knows how long?!”

“Y/N, I’m not paying money for you to stay in a hotel when there is a perfectly good, free place for you to stay. This is the only option.”

You gave in knowing your arguments were useless against this woman. You just wanted to go home and see your family and to be honest you were scared at how big this whole thing had become.

“Okay. Stay safe mom. Love you.”

“I love you too sweetie. Be careful and make sure you thank Taehyung for giving up his space.”

After you hung up with your mom you felt a bit empty. This much change in only a few days was a lot to take in and processing it all was near impossible. ‘Its going to be okay’ you told yourself.Your had mom told you that Taehyung was 24 and she had seen him a few times when he had just been born but didn’t know much about him other than that he apparently worked as a graphic designer for a popular art company. She had gone to college with his mom and they had been very close until mom moved to the US after college. Regardless of your mom’s connection, it felt awkward to be moving into some complete stranger’s space.

——————————————————————————————————————————

Pulling up the email your mom had sent you, you found the address to Taehyung’s house and his phone number. Sighing, you forced yourself to send him a text to let him know you were coming to his place.

To: XXX-XXX-XXXX

iMessage: Hi, this is Y/N… my mom just sent me your address. I should be there in about an hour. Thanks for letting me stay with you.

You put your phone back in your pocket and gathered you bags. Struggling to stand upright you wobbled out of your dorm and made your way to the subway.

Thanks to the virus the subway was not crowded and you had a place to rest all of your stuff. Once you sat down your phone vibrated and you pulled it out to see a response from Taehyung.

iMessage: Y/N, it is my pleasure! My mom told me to treat you well since you are her best friend’s daughter. Ill see you soon!

He was sweet. You felt yourself relax a bit. Maybe it wouldn’t be as awkward as you had thought it would be. You certainly hoped you were right otherwise this was going to be the most uncomfortable period of time you have ever experienced.

Once you were off the subway you lugged your bags up to the street level. Looking around your confidence wavered a bit. You had only been living in Korea for the last few months for college and while you went out a lot but you rarely ventured outside of the college area. The fact that there was no one outside made it even harder because you couldn’t ask anyone for directions. Oh no, there was no way you were going to find his building. You typed the address into Maps and attempted to both hold all of your stuff and navigate.

You were having very little luck and you were afraid your phone was going to die if you continued like this. As you stopped to calm yourself down, your phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Y/N?”

“Oh hi, is this Taehyung?”

“Yeah, Im just calling to make sure you’re okay. You said you’d be here in an hour two hours ago and my mom would kill me if anything happened to you.”

“Oh… Uh…” As much as you didn’t want to cry you couldn’t help yourself. It had been a long few days and the fact that you couldn’t even navigate was infuriating. “Im a little lost.” You managed to say through tears.

“Are there any restaurants or stores near you?” He asked. Looking around you found you were next to a pet store.

“There is pet store near me and I’m right across from a park.”

You heard shuffling from his end of the line. “Okay,” He said finally. “Wait there I’m coming to get you.”

——————————————————————————————————————————

Exhausted, you sank to the ground and rested your head on your knees. It was embarrassing that Taehyung had to go out of his way to find you before you had even met him. He probably thought you were incompetent. And it was even worse that there was an outbreak going on.

Only a few minutes had passed when a black Hyundai pulled up next to you. A guy got out and walked toward you.

“Y/N?” You looked up at him as he came to a stop above you. You nodded and embarrassed yourself by pouting a little. Something you did at home when you were sad or angry. You noticed immediately how striking he was with dark hair that fell into his eyes. He was distractingly handsome and as you stood up, you noticed, very tall as well. Taehyung smiled warmly and reached for your bags. “Go sit in the car, i'll load these in the back.” You complied grateful that he didn’t seem upset with you. He loaded your bags into the trunk and returned to the drivers seat.

“Im Tae by the way.” You took his extended hand.

“I am so sorry for inconveniencing you like this especially now. I promise i’ll make it up to you. I’m not usually this helpless.” Taehyung chuckled. “No problem. I’m glad I had an excuse to go out one last time before the lockdown.” You blushed at his kindness and were relieved when he began to drive.

Taehyung’s apartment was very clean and well decorated. You could immediately tell he was into art as his walls were covered in it. It was an open concept and the living room was only separated from the kitchen by a large kitchen island. He led you across the flat to a door on the far side, opening it to a small bedroom. It looked as if it had never been used and it smelled very clean. There was a large window overlooking the city and you gasped at how pretty it was.

“I’m glad I finally have someone here to use the guest bedroom. It was getting kinda lonely here.” It was shocking how welcoming he was considering you were dumped on him at the last possible moment.

“Thank you so much.” You walked in and he helped place your bags on the bed before leaving you to unpack.

That night, He made you dinner. It was so odd since it had been months since you’d eaten like a normal human. College life was certainly not luxurious. He waited for you to take the first bite and hum with pleasure before he was satisfied enough to eat.

“So, you were attending college here.”  He said. You nodded. “Yeah I’m in my second year at Yonsei. Er- was.”

“This virus is kinda fucking things up isn’t it?”

“Yeah, Im kinda pissed off that I can’t even see my family during it.” Taehyung nodded. “Well I’m lucky that you are keeping me company right now.” You coughed and he watched amusedly as you tried to cover up your awkwardness by taking a sip of water.

“How old are you?” He asked you. “Nineteen.” You replied. He smiled a secret smile before taking another bite of his food.

“Thank you so much for dinner.” You said when you had both finished. He shrugged like it was nothing. “Im happy to do it.”

You tried to help him with dishes but he insisted that you get some rest after your long day.

——————————————————————————————————————————

Usually you woke up around seven the morning so that you could get started on the day but with nothing to do, it seemed a bit unnecessary. Still, your internal clock was hard to reset so despite your empty schedule, you were up. You assumed that Taehyung was probably asleep so you made your way into the kitchen and put on some hot water for tea. This was a ritual of yours. That you had been taught by your mother.

Unconsciously you began humming and you didn’t notice that Taehyung had exited his bedroom or that he was standing shirtless at the kitchen island smiling as he watched you work. You looked cute with your little shorts and oversized t-shirt he was going to have a hard time not thinking about that all day. Turning, you let out a yelp when you saw him, spilling hot tea on your had and causing the mug to break on the ground.

Taehyung immediately rushed over to you and grabbed your wrist before you could pick up any of the pieces of ceramic. “Are you hurt?” The way he looked at you with so much concern made your cheeks flush.

“No, I’m fine, I just got a little surprised.” He chuckled and continued to hold your wrist “Sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you, you looked like you were meditating.”

You tried to pick up the pieces again but he stoped you. “I’ll get it, let’s treat your burn first.” He led you to the bathroom and sat you. on the edge of the tub. Rummaging through the medicine cabinet he found some gauze. You cringed a bit. “Taehyung, it’s not that serious, it’s just a little red that’s all.” Taehyung shook his head. “Better to be safe than sorry. Give me your hand.” You were a bit too happy to have him hold your hand as he ran it under cold water. He was so careful and the way he touched you made you want him to never stop. He dried your hand before wrapping it with gauze, clearly pleased with his work. “There!” He smiled. “Good as new.”

“Thank you.” You laughed and the two of you locked eyes. With him looking at you, you suddenly became hyper aware of his bare chest. He wasn’t super buff but he was lean and toned. He looked very strong and it was hard to look away but you made yourself.

For the next few days, you continued to get up early and make tea, careful not to drop it again.

It was getting really fucking hard for Taehyung to not look at you. It seemed like the only thing you owned were little shorts and huge ass t-shirts. Every time he saw you he wanted to push you against a wall and destroy you. Taehyung had take showers very frequently because of you.

——————————————————————————————————————————

Quarantine was not the most fun and besides meal time, you and Taehyung had not interacted very much. He was very sweet and funny but you were too shy to ask him to hang out.

He must have been going stir crazy too because eventually there was a knock on your door.

“Come in.” You said. Taehyung slowly opened the door. He was wearing sweats and a dark blue sweatshirt. It was annoying that he looked good in even the lumpiest clothes.

“Hey, Im really fucking bored out here can you come watch a movie with me.”

“Sure.” You followed him out to the living room “What movie?” “Im not sure.” He said sitting down. “What do you like to watch?”

You shrugged, to be honest you. Weren’t really a movie person. You. Spent a lot of time listening to music and reading but movies weren’t something you did too often. Being away from your family was making you a bit nostalgic and you recalled movies you watched with them.

“When I was little I really liked Howls Moving Castle.” Taehyung raised an eyebrow at you. “Out of every movie you want to watch a cartoon?” He asked.

“What?!” You giggled. “Howl was like my dream guy when I was younger.” You looked at him as earnestly as you could. “Please can we watch it. I really want to now.” He sighed dramatically but didn’t object.

Once it started you were immediately spellbound. You had forgotten how beautiful Miyazaki movies were. At one point without thinking you said “Howl kind of reminds me of you.” Taehyung looked at you but you were too entranced to notice. His eyes roamed the curves of your face and made their way down your neck, to your shoulder which was bare as your huge shirt slipped off of it. He cleared his throat and returned to watching the movie. There was no way he would let himself think about you. That wasn’t fair to you at all.

Yo had forgotten how sad and intense Miyazaki movies got and you hated when there was conflict in stories. A couple of times you reached out for tae’s arm and he let you. He hated how much he liked the feeling that you needed him there. After your fourth time grabbing onto him, He took your hand and laced his fingers through yours. He watched you register this and look at him. Your eyes were so big and innocent. God, he wanted to ruin you. You smiled at him and continued to watch the rest of the movie. He stopped himself from doing anything stupid. He couldn’t help but be a little disappointed when the film was over and you released his hand. “Thanks for watching with me.” He said. You nodded “Thanks for letting me choose the movie, I forgot how much I loved it.”

There was a silence as he looked at you in the now dark living room. You let him allowing yourself to observe him as well.

“Y/N.” Taehyung’s gaze was filled with a sudden intensity. It scared you a little.

“Yes?” Taehyung pulled you into his arms and buried his head in your hair breathing you in. “I would be so goddamn lonely if you weren’t here.” He said his voice a bit muffled. You were taken aback by his sudden affection that it took you a moment to return it. You gently wrapped your arms around his neck. He smelled so good it was hard for you to think about letting go. Lucky for you Taehyung didn’t. He stayed like that for a long time, so long that you fell asleep and then he fell asleep.

The next morning you woke up still wrapped around each other. He was observing you when you opened your eyes and grinned when he noticed you had woken up.

“Good morning.” You felt a bit awkward that you had ended up in this situation.

“Morning.” You replied avoiding is stare. Taehyung only released you when he was worried you’d be able to feel him. When you finally untangled your limbs from his, he rushed to the shower.

——————————————————————————————————————————

You had started to notice the Tae had become very touchy with you. Not that you were complaining, you loved it. You were definitely starting to develop a crush on him and as much as you hated to admit it you were definitely flirting with him. If you were cooking he would find ways to pass behind you and touch your waist. At the dinner table he began to sit next to you and would knock his knee against yours. He’d even started to put his arm around you when you watched movies which had become a very frequent thing. Regardless of how much you enjoyed his touches you decided not to put too much weight behind it. Tae was like an older brother and in this short time you had been living together, he looked after you. You refused to get his affection confused with attraction.

“Hey, my mom just sent an old picture of her and your mom in college.” Tae called from the living room. You ran out to see jumping on the couch next to him and looking over his shoulder.  You immediately recognize your mom which made you miss her a lot. The woman next to her in the picture looked like she had just stepped off a runway, you could see where Tae had gotten his good looks.

“Wow, She’s beautiful you look so much like her.” You said. He leaned back into your lab and looked up at you grinning. “Y/N, are you calling me beautiful?” You choked on the air. “No! Um, er- you are beautiful, but- I wasn’t..” Tae turned towards you and poked your nose. “You’re so cute.” You felt yourself turn completely red.

“Im not cute.” You mumbled, punching him in the shoulder.

“You are ridiculously cute. It’s almost too much.” You found yourself pouting again and you crossed your arms. Reached up and pulled your face towards him. “See? Thats cute. If you keep doing that I’m not going to be able to stop myself from doing bad things to you.”

You found yourself at a loss for words. Tae rand is thumb over your bottom lip before laughing. Anger overwhelmed you. “You’re an asshole!” You shoved him away from you. He continued to laugh “Oh yeah? Am I?” He tickled your side and you shrieked jumping off the couch and running away from him. He chased you around the apartment and when he caught up to you he threw you over his shoulder. “Tae!” You giggled. He threw you onto the couch and plopped down next to you. “Don’t deny who you are.”

“Shut up.”

——————————————————————————————————————————

Tae picked the movie tonight. It was the notebook and apparently he was a huge fan of Rachel McAdams. You didn’t blame him, she was very pretty but you did feel weirdly jealous. You noticed he didn’t put his arm around you like he normally did which kinda disappointed you. You wondered if he was mad at you which made it hard for you relax. You sat with your arms wrapped around your legs. In your head you started to go through everything you had done during the day that could have upset him but you weren’t finding anything he had seemed happy all day which is why it was weird that he wasn’t acting like he usually did. You were about to start crying until you felt him touching your thigh. He looked like he didn’t know he was doing it as he continued to watch the movie.You couldn’t focus at all, his touches felt so good and you closed your eyes accidentally sighing with pleasure. You felt his hand travel closer to the line of your shorts until they ghosted over your core. Taken aback you looked at tae, worried that he was unaware of what he was doing but he was looking right at you now, his eyes full of something dark and wild. He pulled you closer to him and applied more pressure which made you moan more and you leaned your head against his chest. His other hand caressed your head. “You are so pretty.” He mumbled. “You have no idea how much I want to ruin you.” As he rubbed harder you could feel yourself building up to something you bit your lip and felt your hips roll against his hand. “Do you like that?” Taehyung asked

“Mhmn.” Was the most you could say. “Do you want to come?” You nodded but tae wasn’t satisfied. “I asked if you want to come.” He said.

“Yes! I want to come!” You shouted and almost instantly you felt yourself reach the edge. He continued to move his hand against you as you shook. “Oh my god.”You exhaled. Once you came down from your high you couldn’t bare to look at him and kept your head buried in his shirt. He kissed your hair and then your forehead, your eyes cheeks, nose, before making his way to your lips. It was soft and too brief you almost felt like it hadn’t happened. But he didn’t offer anything more. He got off the couch and walked to the bathroom. You heard him start the shower and you fell asleep before he opened the door again.

——————————————————————————————————————————

It had been three days since whatever happened between you two had happened. You weren’t sure what to call it just as much as you weren’t sure what it meant. You were so confused and too afraid to ask him. Tae seemed just as goofy as he always was which was a relief though he didn’t touch you as much. In fact you had tried to hug him earlier and you could swear you saw him flinch. This was infuriating! He was the one who has initiated the whole thing and now he wasn’t even going to acknowledge it. There was no way you were letting him get away with this. If he was going to make you mad then you were going to mess with him.

“Hey Y/N I’m bored come play cards with me.”

You were sitting in your room reading. You smiled to yourself as you ignored his request.

“Y/N?” Again no response. You. Could hear him walking to your room. He stood in the doorway looking at you.

“Y/N, did you hear me?” You put on your most innocent face before looking at him. “No, did you call me?” He scratched his head clearly confused before sighing. “No, never mind.” You stuck your tongue out at him when he walked away.

When he made dinner that night you told him you had already eaten. “When?” He asked. You shrugged, “I had some crackers earlier and I’m full.”  You could tell that he was getting frustrated. But he still didn’t ask you what was going on.

You didn’t watch a movie that night but you hadn’t in three days so it wasn’t that weird. When  He closed his bedroom door you waited an hour before leaving your room and slipping into his. He was definitely asleep when you got under the covers. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and you were pleased when he moved to wrap his arms around you groaning into you.

——————————————————————————————————————————

In the morning he was not in the room and the door was opened. You got up and found him at the island waiting for you. You liked the way he looked in the morning his har disheveled hid voice incredibly deep.

“Y/N.” He spoke. You shivered at the way he said it. He was angry and it was very hot.

“Tae.” You responded. He shook his head at you and you went on pretending to be oblivious.

“Can you make me pancakes?” You asked sweetly. “‘Im, hungry.” You opened one of the cabinets and got a glass for water. Before you could open the fridge Tae moved grabbed you and pushed you against the counter placing a hand on either side of you.

“Y/N, why are you doing this to me?” Although you were a bit shocked you forced yourself to continue the act. “Doing what Tae, I just asked for pancakes.” Then he actually growled, leaning his head onto your shoulder. You felt blood rush to your core you were so turned on. “Goddamn it, Y/N. I keep convincing myself that this is a bad idea but you keep doing things that make me want to teach you a lesson.”

“Then teach me.” You say. He lifted his head from your shoulder and looked into your eyes. The darkness had returned and his eyes seemed heavy as he looked down at your lips. Suddenly he was devouring you. This kiss was nothing like the ghost one from before. This one felt like he was trying to suck all of the life out of you. And it was working. Your knees went weak and you had to hold onto his shoulders to help yourself stay upright. He slipped his tongue into your mouth and you moaned into him. He tasted so good and just as you felt like he was giving himself to you he pulled away. You whined. “Y/N, tell me what you want.” You rolled your eyes and he gripped your face with his hands. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you.” He kissed you smiling against your mouth. “Where do you want me?”

“Everywhere.” You moved his hands to your breasts and he quickly lifted up your shirt to reveal your breasts.

“Holy fuck I can’t believe you slept next to me like this.” He moved his mouth down your neck before latching onto you nipple and sucking hard.

“Oh my god.” You ran your fingers though his hair. Tae slipped his fingers down to the waistline of your shorts and you let him pull them down along with your underwear. “Such a pretty little cunt.” He said before slapping it making you gasp. He turned you around and licked your folds your eyes rolling back. He began to suck on your clit and you lost it. “Fuck, oh my god! Yes!” Without warning tae pushed you to the ground and stood up you could see the bulge that had formed in his sweats. He placed your hand over it and rolled his head back while you massaged it. Then he pulled down his sweats to reveal a very large very erect cock. You swallowed and looked up at him. ‘Fuck, Y/N you have no idea how pure you look. I can’t wait to fucking ruin you.” Grabbing onto your hair he pushed his dick into your mouth. “Good girl.” He said gently. Tae watched as you tried not to choke on him. “You're doing so good.” He began to buck his hips into you and you gagged on him getting saliva all over his length. When you almost couldn’t take it he pulled out and picked you up placing you on the counter.

“Are you ready for me baby?” He asked and you nodded. He didn’t move. “I need an answer.”

“Yes, Please fuck me.” You beg. And then the pushed into you stretching you out so much you stoped breathing for a second. But as he pulled out you immediately wanted him back inside. Tae grabbed your neck. “I want you to look at me when I’m fucking you.” He pounded into you and when he thrusted at just the right angle your eyes started to water but you kept looking at him. “You feel so fucking good, Y/N. I’ve thought about this so much and you are even tighter than I expected.” The lack of oxygen was heightening your pleasure and you started to feel your orgasm coming on. “Im going to come!” You screamed. He pounded into you harder. “Not yet baby, Not until I say so.” You bit your lip in an effort to hold it back but your vision blurred and there was no stopping it. Tae kept thrusting as you rode it out and as you squeezed around him he reached his climax. He pulled out and his juices poured out of you. He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you for a long time. After some time he picked you up and carried you to the bathroom. He turned on the shower and pulled you inside. As the water ran he took your face in his hards and kissed you softly. He kissed your shoulders and your breasts. He knelt kissing your stomach, thighs, knees and feet. You grabbed his face and pulled him back up into your lips. He felt safe and secure. You let him wash your body and he let you wash his. Finally he stepped out of the shower and dried off before opening the bathroom door.

“Where are you going?” You asked him.

“To make you pancakes.”

[ibijau]

Deathbed Wedding pt4

Nie Mingjue too leaves the Unclean Realm, meets with a friend, and gets updated on the situation

also on AO3

Meng Yao tried to stop Nie Mingjue when he prepared to storm out of the Unclean Realm, first protesting that he couldn’t abandon his sect at the last moment this way (he could, he was the sect leader, there had to be some perks and tyranny was one), then trying to say something about Nie Huaisang.

“Has he come out of his room yet?” Nie Mingjue asked as he raided the pantry for some easy to carry rations, poor Meng Yao trotting behind him.

“Well…” Meng Yao hesitated, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Brat,” Nie Mingjue grunted, annoyed and worried at once. “Did he finally eat at least?”

“Yes, last night,” his deputy announced more confidently.

Nie Mingjue felt himself relax. He was almost certain that his brother had enough food in his room to withstand a siege, but snacks could only keep him going for so long before he might start feeling unwell.

“And is he ready to be reasonable at last?”

Once more, Meng Yao hesitated, something hardening in his eyes even as he shook his head. It was somewhat rare for the two of them to have any sort of disagreement, if only because Meng Yao was too smart to oppose him directly. Still, this time, Nie Mingjue knew that his faithful deputy would have taken his brother’s side if he’d dared.

It only made him angrier at Nie Huaisang for causing trouble like this. That stubborn little brat really was a pain in the ass sometimes.

“Nie gongzi has said he’s waiting for an apology from Nie zongzhu,” Meng Yao explained.

“He can keep waiting,” Nie Mingjue grumbled, leaving the pantry. “I’ll be gone for a week, maybe two. I’m entrusting the sect and Nie Huaisang to you. I’ll deal with him when I get back.”

Meng Yao gave him a strained smile, and bowed briefly. Later on Nie Mingjue might feel sorry for forcing him to be in charge without warning. It wasn’t the first time this happened though, and so far Meng Yao had always done an excellent job of things. Sure he sometimes encountered trouble with some of the less upstanding disciples, but Meng Yao would just have to go complain to Nie Huaisang. The little pest wouldn’t leave his room for his own brother, but he just might if someone made Meng Yao unhappy.

Brat.

Fueled by anger, Nie Mingjue jumped on Baxia and flew off as fast as his sabre would allow, heading East in the direction of the sea. There had been trouble with a monster near a harbour, and while this wasn’t in his sect’s territory, nor were water creatures his speciality, he couldn’t have refused the invitation to come help with this situation.

Two days later, he met up with Lan Xichen at the only inn of a village near the harbour in question, very close to the site of the latest attack.

It had been a long while since they had met up like this. Although the current situation wasn’t Lan Xichen’s fault, Nie Mingjue had still not wanted to see him for a while after Qingheng-Jun had refused to let his eldest son marry the second master of Qinghe Nie. At the same time, Lan Xichen hadn’t really reached out either for a few months, and then had only written to Nie Mingjue, never once offering to meet as they used to do every so often.

Never, until then.

So Nie Mingjue had dropped everything, curious to see what could have prompted his friend to ask for this.

Although he might have looked at peace to someone who did not know him, Nie Mingjue was struck by how nervous Lan Xichen looked. He couldn’t have said what exactly gave him that impression, not when Lan Xichen was sitting calmly with a cup of tea in his hands and a vague smile on his lips, but something was deeply wrong about him. Nie Mingjue almost wished that his brother were here, because Nie Huaisang was the one who knew how to read people, but even if they hadn’t fought it wouldn’t have been possible. 

Lan Xichen's letter specifically requested that Nie Mingjue had to come alone.

The sensation of wrongness only increased when Lan Xichen noticed that Nie Mingjue had arrived, and gestured for him to join him at his table. His smile, always warm usually, now looked so strained that even Nie Mingjue couldn’t have missed it.

“Mingjue-xiong, it is so nice to see you again,” Lan Xichen greeted him, making a sign at the waiter to get a fresh pot of tea. “You look… actually, you don’t look so well,” he admitted with a small grimace. “Trouble at home?”

“I could say the same,” Nie Mingjue retorted, sitting across from him. “You look awful.”

Lan Xichen pinched his lips, his hands curling into fists which he quickly hid under the table.

“I have been better. My father and I have had… we’ve had a few arguments recently.”

“Didn’t think you even knew how,” Nie Mingjue teased.

“I’m learning fast,” Lan Xichen spat, before controlling himself to smile once more. “Sorry, that was… It has been a rough few weeks. I suppose you’ve heard already?”

Nie Mingjue, surprised, shook his head. He hadn’t heard any official news coming from Gusu recently, and Meng Yao hadn’t learned any piece of gossip he’d judged worth sharing. Lan Xichen frowned at that answer and opened his mouth to explain, only to close it again when the waiter approached with a pot of hot tea and a second cup for Nie Mingjue. Lan Xichen smiled politely, watching the young man like a hawk and refusing to say a single word until Nie Mingjue and him were alone again.

“It’s nothing official yet,” Lan Xichen announced as he poured some tea for both of them. “But I think it will be soon enough. My father has contacted Jiang zongzhu about a marriage between Jiang guniang and myself.”

Nie Mingjue stared at him. “You’re joking.”

Pinching his lips again, Lan Xichen shook his head, a deeper frown appearing on his face.

“He took me to meet her just a few days ago,” he explained, his voice trembling with barely restrained anger. “Me and Wangji too, since he was going on a Night Hunt with Jiang disciples anyway. He said since she’ll be part of the family, we should both know her. She doesn’t like the match anymore than I do, because she knows about… about my situation, thanks to her brother and Wei Wuxian. But since her parents seem to want this, it will almost certainly happen.”

Even at a normal time, Nie Mingjue would have been furious to hear this. Now though, still in the middle of an argument with Nie Huaisang, having heard from Nie Zonghui what risks his brother had yet again taken during his latest Night Hunt and suspecting that he hadn’t even been told the half of it, Nie Mingjue felt his temper flare up.

“And what about Huaisang?” He snarled, banging his fist on the table. “After all this, are you really so easily swayed, Lan gongzi?”

Lan Xichen briefly glared at him, before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Mingjue-xiong…”

“Do you have any idea how hard that little idiot is trying to meet your father’s demands?” Nie Mingjue shouted, startling Lan Xichen who opened his eyes again. The few other patrons present also turned to look at him, but Nie Mingjue ignored them. “Huaisang has been on Night Hunt after Night Hunt, he hasn’t missed practice in over a year, and you…”

“Mingjue-xiong, not here,” Lan Xichen whispered, glancing around at the other patrons. “This is… let’s finish our tea and get on our way, we can talk when we’re alone. Some of this is… I think here is not a good place for it.

Even through his anger, Nie Mingjue liked Lan Xichen too much to expose him to the discomfort of a public argument. He drank his tea without waiting, letting it burn his throat in his haste to just go out and find a place where he could shout without restrictions. With this done, he threw some money on the table to pay their tab, and roughly grabbed Lan Xichen by the arm to drag him outside.

As they walked toward the last known attack site, Lan Xichen, carefully, explained the situation in more detail, letting more and more bitterness sip through the longer he spoke. Nie Mingjue’s anger also only increased as he listened, but it was no longer turned at his friend.

“Your father has some guts,” he spat. “And you’re going to give in?”

“What else can I do?” Lan Xichen sighed, his eyes red from tears he refused to spill. “He is my father, and he has made up his mind. Besides… if you were in my position, wouldn’t you do the same?”

Nie Mingjue grunted, unsure what to say. For him, and to a lesser degree for Nie Huaisang too, it hadn’t been rare to get into fights with their father when he was still alive. The old man had half encouraged it, too, because he thought that arguments built character. Still, on the rare occasion that their father insisted to have his way, they knew when to stop arguing. So for Lan Xichen who had always been taught to obey his elders, like a dutiful Lan… 

“Are you sure he’ll keep his word about Wangji?” Nie Mingjue asked. “If he lied back then, what’s to keep him from lying again now?”

“I'm not stupid, Mingjue-xiong. I’ve told shufu about it,” Lan Xichen explained, to which his friend nodded.

Lan Qiren had made it rather clear before that he disapproved of his brother’s decision concerning his eldest son’s matrimonial prospects, and he’d always spoiled Lan Wangji, at least by Lan standards. He would not allow Qingheng-Jun to ruin the lives of both of his nephews, nor would be put up with lies and broken promises.

“When you get home to Huaisang, tell him I’m sorry,” Lan Xichen sighed. “I never meant to…” He hesitated, and sighed again, deeper this time, a pitiful expression on his face. “I really thought things would work out, and I never meant to hurt him because he is so dear to me. And yet... “ Another sigh. “Even if the Jiangs decide they don’t want this engagement, please tell Huaisang to stop trying to impress my father… but don’t tell him why. I don’t want him to know all his efforts were for nothing, that’d be too cruel.”

“I’ll try, but he doesn’t really listen to me much these days,” Nie Mingjue grumbled. “That brat.”

Lan Xichen smiled fondly for a moment, before the corner of his lips collapsed and he was forced to turn away to hide his expression.

“He’s smart enough to know what’s best for him,” Lan Xichen whispered, raising one hand to wipe something on his face.

Nie Mingjue almost laughed, because if there was one thing that Nie Huaisang had proven in recent months, it was how little sense of self preservation he had. Maybe that was why his brother had been granted a somewhat lazy personality: when he took action, he really put himself in too much danger. And while Nie Mingjue couldn’t say so out loud for fear of further upsetting Lan Xichen who was already so distraught, he was quite sure unless Nie Huaisang was told exactly how useless his efforts had been, or unless he saw Lan Xichen being married off to someone else, he wouldn’t stop trying to prove himself to a man who could never have been convinced.

“I think we’re close now,” Lan Xichen said, pointing at the nearby beach where a number of recently wrecked ships laid on their side. “I’ve been asking around about what happened, while waiting for you. Would you like to hear the details, Mingjue-xiong?”

“Sure, tell me what we know,” Nie Mingjue agreed.

Grateful that he was allowed to change the subject, Lan Xichen smiled weakly and started explaining what he had heard so far, as well as his personal theory regarding what sort of creature had been causing such trouble, and how they might have to rent a boat and go to sea for a few days if they wanted to find whatever caused this evil. Nie Mingjue listened diligently, glad to be back on more familiar terrain.

Fighting a water demon capable of destroying entire fleets would be easier than figuring out how to tell Nie Huaisang he would never get to be with the person he loved.

[johannstutt413]

(requested by anonymous; continuing from this)

It was an early morning for the Doctor as a pair of birds chirped in unison in the Doctor’s ears. “I’m up, I’m up...dear, please tell Micrathene she can stop chirping now.”

“Compliance restricted. Error code: I think it’s quite adorable she takes after me.” Ptilopsis twittered delightedly in her husband’s ear. “Would you rather cook breakfast or feed our daughter this morning?”

“Only one of us is qualified for the latter.” He sighed, pulling himself from their bed to start pots of coffee and oatmeal for the adults while the Liberi chick was being fed. It really was lucky maternity and paternity leave were equally long on Rhodes Island, even if that was only because he was in charge of the policies in question, because as annoying as it was sometimes to have to adapt his schedule to his fledgling child’s, so far it’d been totally worth it.

Of course, he couldn’t eat eggs anymore after the “Life Cycle of a Liberi” video he’d watched with Tilly, but it was a fair trade.

The Doctor had coffee finished and three bowls of oatmeal ladled out by the time his favorite people emerged from their bedroom, the younger chittering incomprehensibly in her mother’s arms. “Do we have a guest this morning, dear?” Ptilopsis asked as she settled into a chair, nodding along to the steady stream of chirps and tweets and occasionally replying.

“No, but I remember reading that fledgelings can eat mush- soft food after only a few months, and I thought we could see how she reacts. Push comes to shove, I’ll just eat the rest of that bowl.” He cocked his head as she frowned. “Something wrong?”

“Not with your idea, but I...I remember my mother saying I started eating grains early, too.”

His mind whirred as the words sank in. “You remembered that?”

“Mmhmm. Since she was born,” Tilly continued, “not only has my condition improved, but I’m regaining...something very much like memories, at the least.”

“Even if we can’t be sure they’re accurate, I think that’s amazing. Your mind truly is an incredible thing, dear.” He gave her a peck on the cheek, and on the way back to sitting upright kissed Micrathene’s forehead as well. It seemed to make her happy, as she reached up to grab at his face.

Her mother chirped merrily as she gestured to pass her on. “That aside, would you like the honors, Doctor?”

“You’re really giving me the first spoonful?” The Doctor had snatched the fledgling before you could say ‘raptor.’ “Alright, Teeny Theeny, let’s see how this goes. Here comes airship, wer-wer-wer-wer- omnomnomnom.”

“Try not to have too much fun, or she might giggle with a mouth full of oats.” Still, Ptilopsis was giggling herself. She never would’ve guessed he’d take so quickly to being a parent, but taken to it he certainly had.

Luckily, she didn’t, and in fact seemed quite interested in another spoonful. “Huh. She’s really taking to this. Say aaah~”

“Aaah~” came the delighted response, much to the couples’ surprise. When she’d received the next bite and finished swallowing it, she said again, with the exact same tone and inflection, “Aaa~”

“Is it just me, or is she perfectly on pitch with me?...Oooh~” He went for a lower key.

The owlet chirped happily before echoing. “Oooh~”

“Iiiiiih~”

“Iiiiiih~ Aaah~ Aaah~!” The latter calls, still the same note as the first she heard, were more insistent.

The Doctor had no idea what to make of it other than feeding her more. “Fascinating, just fascinating. She seems pretty musical to me.”

“She’s not even six months old, dear,” Tilly replied, shaking her head with a smile. “I think she’s associated the sound with you feeding her.”

“Still, that was a quick association to make- Yes, yes, aaah~” He chuckled as Micrathene interrupted his thoughts for more oatmeal.

With breakfast finally over, the couple played Pass the Fledgling as they watched TV, trading which of them was holding her during every commercial break until she was finally ready to go down for a nap; once that was arranged, and the TV volume was lowered, the Liberi settled sideways into the Doctor’s lap, nesting her head on his shoulder. “I wonder how much of this is her Infection, and how much is normal fledgling behavior,” she muttered, feeling sleepy herself again already.

“Hard to say,” he replied, setting his head atop hers and holding the nearer of her two hands. “Does the answer change anything about her treatment?”

“Hmm...Error: data corrupted. Try reloading the file in a couple hours.” Tilly yawned, squeezing his hand.

The Doctor chuckled; he did a lot of that these days. “Well, at least the storage space can go to something else. Not even the pot of coffee, huh?”

“Not even.” Ptilopsis tweeted for a moment, teetering on the edge of consciousness, before continuing. “Hubby?”

“That is soo much better than ‘Doctor’...Yeah?”

She didn’t reply because she was already asleep. “Twii-twitwitwi-twii...Twii-twitwitwi-twii...”

“She’ll remember if it’s important.” At least, that was true nowadays. “Who would have known that I was the medicine she needed…’Course, that goes both ways. I wonder if she’ll ever know.”

Considering the dreams Ptilopsis was having right then, it’s safe to say she did.

[girl4music]

I'm saving this in my bookmarks. I have a lot more to say about it and need to gather my thoughts on it so I can clearly and concisely express what I want to say without insulting someone else. It's a very controversial topic of discussion after all. But one that must be discussed nonetheless.

------------------------------------------

"but the misconception you must accept that you have an addiction in order to change your relationship with drugs and alcohol, is harmful."

It is very harmful. It's similiar to constantly believing you're mentally ill when you have a mental illness. That's not going to help you get mentally well. Addiction is a mental illness. Maybe 12-step AA programs should understand what's necessary for neurodiversity first before understanding what's necessary for recovery. It makes total sense to me why DEMI LOVATO is fairing better with moderation management methods over total drug/alcohol abstinence. But that's because I understand her well, not because I understand addiction well. I just think... Neurodiversity > Recovery. And, in my mind, associating "recovery" with the term "sobriety" is more dangerous than associating the term "California sober" with "recovery" in my opinion. But what do I know? 😑

"This goes against the popular belief that consuming drugs and alcohol and being in recovery are mutually exclusive, an idea that is deeply embraced by some in the addiction treatment field."

Yes, because the addiction treatment field wants you to be free of your addictions. 🙄 They don't want you to be free of your addictions or your mental illnesses. They want you to RELY ON THEM so that the only "treatment" you can get for your addictions and mental illnesses forces you to continue said "treatment" with them. So that it's a never-ending cycle.

"The idea that recovery is synonymous with sobriety is closely tied to 12-step fellowship programs where step 1 is to admit you’re powerless over drugs and alcohol and the ultimate goal is abstinence."

Exactly. So YOU'RE powerless to make any decisions for yourself that do not include what THEY say is best for YOU. Which is an ultimate and unrealistic goal of TOTAL ABSTINENCE.

"But if you ask your friends, neighbors, or loved ones outside of the addiction field what they think it means to be in “recovery”, most will associate the term with total sobriety."

Yes, and they want to keep it that way because it makes big $$$$$.

Listen people. I'm gonna lay it out in plain English for you

Demi is not saying her "California sober" method is everyone's method. That it is the correct method for everyone dealing with addiction or/and mental illness. In fact she's made it pretty damn clear no one should think or believe it is or should be. All she is saying is that it's a method that she's found to work for her. And is it working? Well, only time and experience with it will tell. I don't know if it will for her longterm but it certainly seems to be working for her at the moment. And that's all that matters for the moment. But, for me personally, I think neurodiversity should be put first over recovery because all people aren't the same and therefore the same method for recovery will not work for all people. There are different pathways to take and different options to try. Some not so popular than others. All Demi is doing is trying those "not so popular" methods out because the one that everybody says, thinks and believes will work did not work for her at all. Sobriety did not work for her and, forgive me for using this metaphor, that's a hard pill to swallow for some people who hold the term "sober" so closely to their heart and dote on it like it's the love of their life.

I have genuine faith that this moderation management method (her "California sober") will work for her. Because, like I said... I know and understand Demi very well. I know that extremes are not right for her. And total abstinence is just another extreme for her to get addicted to on top of her other addictions. The woman needs balance in her life. She knows she needs balance in her life. So therefore she's trying that "balance" with her issues with drug and alcohol addiction. She believes it will work. And I think she's right. Will it work for somebody else? Probably not. But it's a viable pathway to take and option to try in any case. What more harm could moderation management do to some people than the harm total abstinence can do to some people? Because I definetly say the latter is far more dangerous.

We, as a society, need to get more comfortable with the term "weaning" regarding substance addiction first of all. You would not make a baby go without their mother's milk or baby formula in order to get them on to eating solid foods. Of course not. You would wean them into it. So why isn't this area of logic applied to substance addiction? It should be! That's my take on it and I want to develop this area of logic further as I learn more and more about the mental illness of addiction and substance abuse in general. I know very little about addiction. I don't know a great deal about mental illness either but more so than just what little I know about addiction specifically. But what I do know and understand very well is neurodiversity and the relationship between the external and the internal. Meaning the relationship between the environment and the human mind/body. And my argument for what to do for mental illness (and addiction, most likely) is that you must get to know and understand this relationship first before tackling recovery in any aspect of life. The relationship between "I" and "other" is extremely important for interaction of any kind with people, things, substances, ideologies, philosophies, stimulants... Everything. And I just don't believe any "program" or "treatment" for addiction recovery or mental health recovery can be without the knowing and understanding of this relationship. This primary relationship with "I" and "other" and all interactions between them.

Now for someone who lives to such extremes to the point that they are misdiagnosed with bipolar disorder (DEMI LOVATO)... It is quite evident that the key is to lessen those extremes. And the way to do that is by balancing the extremes. Not by completely taking all of them away.

One extreme for her is a total obsession with perfection and with being the best at everything, looking as good/pretty as possible. Essentially constantly setting the bar higher and higher to reach with each grasp. That is an addiction for her.

Another extreme for her is disregarding any and all expectations or goals, rebelling against every law or moral or teaching whatsoever... Basically not giving a crap about anything. Not even her own well being,... to the point where she's results to substance abuse just to keep going. To have some kind of high.

Now throw in a strict schedual of night and day, around-the-clock restriction, limitation and control into the mix and have that happen for 365 days a year and ask yourself will it lessen any extreme for Demi or will it just add another extreme on the top of it? One would absolutely lose their mind trying to keep up with all of this while being expected to perform to any degree whatsoever as a "star". One is going to fail. More than fail. One is going to seriously impact their health. One is going to be on death's door. So even though I don't know and understand addiction or mental illness very well, don't say I don't understand the tremendous effects it can have on neurodivergent people. I know and understand more than any average person would ever fucking know or understand. I know and understand Demi. And I am saying moderation management is the best method for Demi's substance abuse recovery because her addiction is not substances. Or rather - not primarily substances. Her addiction - her primary addiction - is to be PERFECT. She needs to tackle that addiction before her addictions with substances. With drugs and alcohol. And the best way for her to do that is to find balance in every aspect of her life. With her food, with her career, with her music, with her interactions with EVERYTHING. If she can tackle that addiction and wean it down to where she doesn't need to feel like she needs to be so perfect all the time and put herself through the ringer with her career... Then her issues with substance abuse will most likely disappear by themselves because she wouldn't need those substances or stimulants to cope anymore. There's no cause for it. No trigger. So, yes. She's right. Moderation management is the correct method for her. And it's proven to be so far, so let's not villify her for it just yet. Let's wait and see what the results are first. Like you would with any scientific study. And if it does turn out to be that you were right... Then you can make your conclusions on whether it's a method that should or shouldn't be used or associated with drug/alcohol addiction recovery ever again. I personally don't think so. I think she's got it now because, with Demi, it's primarily a mental health issue with her feeling or thinking that she always needs to be perfect. I think if that addiction goes away, then the addiction with the drugs and alcohol will go away on its own. There will be no need for a "recovery plan" at all for it because she's got the stimulants that she needs to remain in a healthy and balanced mindset.

Demi's effectively killing two birds with one stone. She couldn't even kill one before her overdose happened and that was not her fault. It was the fault of the people constantly around her making sure she never had any stimulants whatsoever. Leaving her powerless to ever get "mentally well" in the first place. Her last recovery team left her in one big jam. They took all the stimulants or coping mechanisms away to deal with her addiction issues with perfection and body image and eating disorders. They refused to wean her and it only made the situation worse. I mean what did they think was gonna happen? NOBODY could get "sober" or "clean" or "recovered" or "mentally well" from that level of restriction, limitation and control, let alone DEMI LOVATO, a "star" who was given access to everything under the sun as a child and was taught and told to be perfect at the same time.

Oh yes, I totally get it. And that's why I can say with complete conviction that, this time, Demi's got it now. She's got a handle on every addiction or mental health issue plaguing her because she's gone right to the root to where it all started to begin with and she's weaning herself. 👏 And you know, if you cut the head off a snake, the whole body dies along with it without ever needing to take a second chop. Apply that awfully corny metaphor to all I've just said and you'll totally get it too. Addiction and mental health recovery is not a one-size fits all method. There are other methods. Demi's just trying those other methods and being publically transparent about it. She should be respected, not vilified. I'm done.

[avversiera-writes]

try again; in everyday we breathe life [tobirama senju/you] - chapter 4

Chapter 4 - Then

Summary: some comedy,, more doing the deedddd, some comedic relief, hah! light-hearted stuff while the glaring dramatic irony lingers

Word Count: ~4k

Author’s Note: ik ik it’s been a while! almost done tho. thank you for reading <3

also on AO3.

Chapter 1 - Now | Chapter 2 - Then, part 1 | Chapter 2 - Then, part 2 | Chapter 3 - Now | 

Tobirama is busy meeting with delegates from Kumogakure, and you are stuck being a wife in your own home, trying not to get embarrassed in front of the servants as you talk about replacing the broken bed in your room and changing the curtains around the house, or some other household detail that needs attending. You also talk with the cook in the kitchen about dinner, as Tobirama’s students are going to come over tonight, and you want to make sure that the food will be up to their tastes. 

  You trudge through your day until past noon, deciding that it is a good time to drop by the Hokage mansion to get your stubborn husband to eat something. The more Tobirama gets busy, the more he ignores the simplest ways to sustain himself. It is even harder to get him off when he is hard at work and is very focused on his tasks. He has a way of zeroing in on whatever he is doing, and while he is quite efficient at it, hours can pass him by before he even considers taking a break. 

This part of Tobirama, you admire and loathe him for it, because he rarely thinks about taking care of himself. It has always been work for him, and you know that he enjoys it more than anything, despite the stress that it brings him. 

  Now that you have taken a step back from being an active shinobi, you are able to look after him in your own way. There are times he resists being looked after, but after some pushing and prodding on your part, he would grudgingly accept it. 

  Being married to him and getting to know more sides of him is thrilling, and it makes you fall for him even more. 

In your bedroom, preparing to drop by the Hokage office, you study your clothes, deciding which kimono you should wear and which outer robe or pair of sandals you want to match it with. You have never really thought about fashion that much, because you often opted for practical clothing. Now that you are the Hokage's wife, you know you have to look the part, and also, it does not hurt to wear something pretty for your husband. 

  After deciding with a light green kimono with a slit on the left leg, and pairing a yellow outer coat to complement it, you step out of the bedroom to head down the kitchen. 

  The house is quiet, except for the quiet footsteps just outside the house, indicating that the servants of the house are keeping away to give you some privacy. You really do not mind their company, but they are gone before you can express your sentiments. 

You make a mental note to change that. Despite being in a village where classes of people are blurred, it seems to be different within clans. You know that some of the Senju have married with the common folk and into other clans, but since the two heads of the clan are Hokage, that part of the family is treated almost like royalty. 

  You shake your head. Hierarchies were the least of your problems, especially one that involves family. In the shinobi world, it is simpler, and there are many opportunities to move up your rank. Whereas, being part of the more mundane life, it is a whole different world from what you knew. 

  You uncover the pan where the cook had left the fried fish that Tobirama likes and you begin to pack it into a box, along with rice and some side dishes that he sometimes eats along with this kind of dish. You prepare his tea, and a few rice cakes, then you wrap everything into a nice blanket to make it easier to carry. 

Footsteps approach the long kitchen, and you whirl around, only to spot Miura Kimiko. 

  “My lady, I am so sorry to interrupt!” Kimiko expresses. 

“Oh, it’s you,” you greet. You throw a smile at the last minute to reassure that there is nothing to worry about. You are completely caught off-guard by her presence, since no one is really around you at the moment. “I have been meaning to talk to you.” 

  Kimiko smiles kindly. “Really?” 

  You let out a nervous giggle. “Well, it turns out that I may need your help after all. You know, with the...” You trail off and you give Kimiko an embarrassed look. 

Kimiko’s face lights up in joy, and you finally let out a genuine smile. “That’s great, my lady!” 

  You press a hand to your forehead and laugh. “I had no idea that he would be so quick to decide. He seemed very eager.” 

Kimiko laughs, and you take Tobirama’s wrapped lunch. 

“I see,” Kimiko walks towards you, and pauses at the cupboards. “I will have to make a quick trip to the market. We can talk later, and I can show you and give you your first batch of tea for fertility purposes. Then, along the way, we’ll talk of the supplements that will ensure a healthy birth.” 

You meet her eyes. “Thank you, Kimiko-san. I really appreciate this.” You give her a small bow. “I will put my trust in you.” 

  “I am honored, my lady,” Kimiko replies, and from there, you leave her be in the kitchen to make your way towards the Hokage office.

//

There was some waiting to be done, once you get in the Hokage office. The mansion is flourishing with many people, delegates and their aides that have been authorized to stay there for the duration of their visit. It seems that peace negotiations are coming along well, judging by the atmosphere of the place. There is no tension that you feel. You hope that Tobirama’s alliance with Kumo will come along soon, though you foresee the many months of more political talks that will ail his office hours. 

  Sensing that Tobirama will not be available immediately, you tell one of his guards that you will be waiting in the library for him, and make your way there. 

You smile at the familiar sight, the moment you step in. It has been a while since you have been here, in this place, where you and Tobirama had spent a lot of your earlier years together, and where your love probably first budded from. You learned more from each other through observation and silence, and of course, your nonstop banter that somehow turned into a dance of flirtationship. 

  It seems so long ago. 

You look to the table where the two of you had spent countless hours poring over research books, record books and writing into scrolls and manuscripts about plans for the growing Academy. This place has evolved–it used to be smaller. There are now more bookshelves that are being filled with newer books, and the restricted section, only accessible to those jounin level and higher, are also growing, no doubt due to your husband’s non-stop inventions. He had a huge hand in writing a lot of academic research and theory that will certainly help the future generations. That is what he is hoping for, after all, to build something that will last. 

You finally sit at your table, where dust is gathering and swirling in motes due to the sunlight peering in from the window. There is a clock at the back of the library, and it clicks loudly, echoing in the dusty, warm place to signal the passing time. 

  You trace a finger on the table, remembering that Tobirama found it childish that you doodle on random things, and then you remember telling him off and to mind his own business. 

“What are you smiling about?” Tobirama’s voice interrupts your thoughts and you turn your head to his direction. He comes closer and he glances at the table, probably coming into a realization. “I see. You were a bit of a terror back then.” 

Tobirama sits across from you, and you notice that he is wearing his Hokage clothes. 

“Long day?” You ask. 

  “The day has not even begun to start,” Tobirama sighs, and he begins to roll his sleeves back. “It is hard to keep track of the delegates coming in and out, and harder to make sure that our own delegates in Kumo are not messing up anything.” 

“Well, have a little faith,” you tell him. 

  Tobirama rolls his eyes. “Yes, I’m sure a little faith will do it. One of them, by the way, is my eldest nephew, and he is everything Hashirama is and none of his mother’s tact and charm.” 

  “Your brother is charming, stop it.” You crack a smile. 

  Tobirama narrows his eyes at you as he unpacks the lunch you have brought him. “Yes, he has charm, and he is sunshine and all about inspiration, that will dazzle the leaders of Kumogakure.”

You roll your eyes. “This is a good thing. He gets to show off the youthfulness that peaceful times can only bring.”

  If Tobirama could laugh out loud, this moment would be it. However, he lets out a huff of breath with a small smile, his version of being amused. “Perhaps. That ought to be the winning argument.” 

You let Tobirama eat in peace, and instead, decide to wander around the library to find the old places you used to crash into when you and Tobirama had to pull all-nighters, or when you just needed some space from him being a blunt asshole. You pull out the books that he used to recommend you, and flip through the pages where he had left tiny notes and markers for you to find. All of them, you have kept and preserved. 

  Back then, you found this part of Tobirama confusing and annoying, because he keeps passing you one book after another in the guise of studying it, but now that you think about it, this was his way of letting you know that he was interested. You remember the folded papers and bookmarks that would fall out when you open them, and your miffedness from trying to collect them from the ground. You were convinced that Tobirama was out to get you. 

“You know what, husband, I take it back. You were a bit of a charmer back then,” you note as you sense him approaching. You slide the book back into its shelf, creating a cleaner path from the dust.

  “And you were quite mean,” Tobirama says with a hint of mock wonder. “What were your words? That I was a senile, arrogant bastard who can go stick–”

  “Alright, alright,” you interrupt and shoot him a glare. “I said I take it back.” 

  “Yes, but my poor heart,” Tobirama sarcastically replies. 

You look at him, feigning bewilderment. “Are you joking around with me? Wow ! You are capable of such things!” 

  Tobirama smirks. “I am capable of many things.” 

You scoff. “Your audacity at this moment, Lord Nidaime.” 

  Tobirama does not even look like there is a hint of shame on that proud, stoic face of his. 

You bite back a smirk, and the two of you stare at each other for a short moment. The air between you changes, and before you know it, Tobirama is pushing you against the bookshelves, his mouth on yours, and his rough hands slipping through the slit of your kimono to grope your hips. You hear books fall to the floor and scrolls rolling on its surface, and your hand goes above your head to find some sort of purchase. 

“Maybe I should have done this earlier and saved us the confusion of finding out if we really did like each other,” Tobirama roughly whispers into your ear. 

  “If you did, I would have certainly, absolutely have stabbed my katana into your–” 

Tobirama steals your last words by pushing his tongue through your mouth and you moan, pleased. 

“Can you really afford to waste time like this?” You gasp as Tobirama delves into your neck intensely. 

  “I’m the Hokage,” Tobirama answers curtly. 

  “Some abuse of power right there.” 

You close your eyes as Tobirama’s hands cup your ass and presses you against his body, where you can feel his half-aroused erection. You grind against him, and he pushes you into the bookshelf again, where you can feel the edge of the shelves pressing against your back. 

“Haven’t you had enough?” You ask him beguilingly. 

Tobirama stares at you with a serious expression, and something about it makes you weak. “Of you?” He plants a tender kiss on your lips. “If you begin to impose too much.” 

  You roll your eyes. “Alright, goodbye. I’ll see you at home. Enjoy your erection.” 

You attempt to leave his grasp, but he steadies you in one place with firm hands. 

“Where are you going, and with this cut in your clothing? Let’s put it into good use, shall we?” Tobirama says in a low voice. 

  He whirls you around, and hikes up your clothes up to your hips. The cool air makes you shiver, and you grab onto a shelf to steady yourself. Tobirama is taller, and he is pulling you against himself, making your balance unsteady. 

  Your husband runs a hand between your thighs, and you can’t help but moan when he begins to rub his fingers against your heat. He stops, and then you hear quick shuffling of clothes behind you. You reach behind you to feel Tobirama and you let out a low chuckle when you realize that he has opted to shed his Hokage robes. 

“You have got it bad, Lord Nidaime,” you murmur. 

  “Yes, poor me, whatever shall I do now,” he says quickly. He grips your hip and positions it so that he can perfectly align against your entrance. 

  Then, he slips in, and you let out a long drawn moan as he sheathes himself inside you completely. 

  You hear him murmur curses, and you gasp as he rears back, only to slam himself back in with a precision that immediately paints your vision white. You forget you have legs, and you almost fall down as Tobirama begins to thrust into you unforgivingly. You let out a cry, and his hand quickly slaps over your mouth. 

  You hear his harsh breaths, getting louder and faster. Your lower back curves a little bit more, and the angle changes, and Tobirama begins to pound the spot that makes your body buck into him wildly. 

With nothing to support yourself, you accidentally tear the shelf in half above your head, and more books come crashing into the floor. Tobirama moves the two of you away from the mess, and he plasters you against the wall. You can only gasp as he resumes his fucking, and the slick sounds of skin against skin, of the neck-breaking speed that Tobirama snaps his hips to, makes you come so hard that you only remember worrying about the roof or the floor caving in until Tobirama places you on a table, and begins to fuck you there. 

  You cry out, slewing curses with a creativity that only comes when you are high. 

The table beneath you breaks, and Tobirama lowers your conjoined bodies onto the floor. You hold on to his shoulders, and lean back as he uses his tongue and his lips trace your neck and to plant light bruises there. You grind into him, chasing another high, and you end up pulling at his hair to expose more of his neck. 

You suck on the side of his neck, and his hands on your hips begin to guide you into a slow, agonizing rhythm. Finally, the two of you kiss, and Tobirama gives you a hard thrust upwards that sends your legs flailing, and you feel his cock twitch inside you as he breeds you with his hot seed. 

“Oh my gods,” you murmur, but you are not sure if you have said it out loud. 

Tobirama is still breathing harshly against your shoulder, and he is holding onto you like a tight coil. You feel his heart thundering against his chest, and as you come to, Tobirama shows no sign of letting up his grip. Slowly, you run a hand down his arm to soothe him. You give light kisses on the side of his face, and you continue to caress him gently. 

"Too much?" You ask teasingly. 

  Tobirama coughs, and even that sounds embarrassed. "We're really doing this." 

  "It hasn't set in yet, huh?" 

Tobirama squeezes your waist with his arms as his reply and you rest your head on his shoulder. 

  "Are you going to let go of me?" You ask tentatively. 

Tobirama lets out a sigh and you stifle a giggle. It is rare to catch a very soft Tobirama. 

  "Are you not tired?" Tobirama asks. 

  "No, not at all." You lean back and narrow your eyes at him. "Are you? Is your age catching up?"

  Tobirama scoffs and he immediately scowls. "I am not that old, and I can go for more if you want." 

You lean towards him languorously, a victorious smile spreading across your lips. "Yes, but you have a job to do." 

Tobirama slowly eases you off of him. "They can wait. I think I'll get a chronic migraine because of some hard to please delegates." 

  "With that expression of yours, one might think you already do," you can't resist saying back.

Tobirama stares at you blankly. "Now I get why people are wondering why I married you,” he deadpans. 

  “I beg to differ, Lord Nidaime, I’m quite the catch,” you smile cheekily as you watch Tobirama’s ears flush pink. 

You give your husband a few quick kisses on the lips before he can react, and you move away to stand up and gather yourself.

  “Whoah.” Your legs wobble slightly as you take a step.

  Tobirama catches you by the elbow, and you feel your face blush from his action. 

“Careful,” he warns. 

  “Right,” you say in a quiet voice. You survey the damage and you swallow nervously. “Um...I am going to stay here, and clean up and also make sure that I do not look like I just got mugged.”

Tobirama throws you a dirty look as he searches for his clothes. “Don’t worry about the mess, I will take care of it.” 

  “I was talking about myself,” you run a hand through your hair. 

Tobirama quickly puts on his clothes, and you watch him, surrounded by the broken bookshelves and the books littered on the floor. You can sense that the two of you are panicking about getting caught, or having someone walk in here, especially when the Hokage mansion is housing so many people. 

“You’re the worst,” you blurt out. 

  Tobirama raises an eyebrow and slides on his sandals. His serious expression becomes funnier as his hard features begin to morph into helplessness. You note the blooming bruises on his neck, and you gesture at it, with the same helplessness. 

  “Right,” Tobirama awkwardly says and tugs his collar up. 

  The two of you stare at each other with the familiarity of two strangers in the wrong place, and Tobirama skeeters out of the library in the most elegant way that he can muster, and when he is gone, you slide to the floor, staring at the space in front of you, then, you begin to laugh out loud. 

//

Instead of going straight home, you try your best to clean up the library, and to check your image on the glass window to make sure you look representable. Then, you wait for Tobirama in a common lounge since this whole ordeal took the whole afternoon, and it is now nearing dinner. 

  You wrap your outer coat tighter, and try to mask the slight limp that you have developed over the course of the afternoon. 

  Finally, your husband is out of his work’s clutches for now, and the two of you hurry home, trying to beat Tobirama’s students there so that the two of you can freshen up. 

  However, your plans are ruined, when you find the six of them standing on the yard, aghast as the servants haul out the bed that the two of you have broken, and they watch, as a new bed is carried into the house. 

Tobirama stiffens beside you, and you manage a small smile, knowing that you look disheveled as you feel. 

  In the yard, both Hiruzen and Danzo look horrified, Torifu is pale, Kagami and Homura have their mouths opened, and in all of their eyes you can see a growing realization, while Koharu struggles to keep her face from deviating from her usual strict expression. 

Tobirama stands beside you, calm and collected, regal and shameless. He nods, and he leaves you in the yard and walks abruptly into the house. 

“EW!” The boys shouted. 

  Koharu rolls her eyes and she starts to walk away. "Get it together," she snaps. 

  You resist the urge to put a hand on your face to cover up your embarrassment, and instead, choose to walk towards the house with your whole chest. 

To be continued...

Chapter 5 - Then >>